


Guess Who's Coming to (Passover) Dinner?

by MsBrooklyn



Series: Assembly Line (or Why It's a Lot Harder than Steve Thought to Recruit New Members) [13]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Jessica Jones (TV), Spider-Man (Ultimateverse), The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Young Avengers
Genre: F/M, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-12
Updated: 2016-05-12
Packaged: 2018-06-01 22:03:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 26,151
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6537889
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MsBrooklyn/pseuds/MsBrooklyn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Following the events of "Double Trouble," Billy Kaplan's parents decide it's time to meet Billy's extended and somewhat unconventional family by breaking matzo over Passover dinner.  Meanwhile, Tommy Shepherd is discovering that life as a member of the Parker-Barnes household isn't exactly what he expected and Jessica Jones is working on unraveling the mystery of the ATCU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kimsnothere](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kimsnothere/gifts).



Chapter 1  
  
  
  
**The Blackboard Jungle**

  
"You're jealous."  
  
"I am _not_ jealous."  
  
The look Mary Jane Watson turns on Peter Parker is highly skeptical and says that she's not buying Peter's vehement denials.  She doesn't say a word.  She doesn't have to.  
  
Peter squirms under that look and tries to justify his increasingly tenuous position.  "You don't know what it's like MJ!  We got up for school this morning and he used his super speed to beat me to the bathroom and then he spent _forever_ in there because apparently, that's the one place he _doesn't_ rush."  
  
Mary Jane still doesn't say a word.  She just sits back in her seat and takes a bite of her lunch.  
  
"And he barges into my room and just takes my stuff!   He took my..."  Peter drops his voice.  "He took my web shooters.  And he hid them!  Just to be a jerk!  H-he's the biggest jerk in the history of jerkdom and he's living in my house and stealing my stuff and ---"  
  
"And getting your attention.  Face it tiger, sibling rivalry ain't pretty," Mary Jane says.  
  
"It's _not_ sibling rivalry!  He's Billy's brother, not mine!" Peter declares indignantly. "What do you even know about it anyway? You're an only child too."  
  
Mary Jane snorts with laughter.  "You _were_ an only child.  Now you have a brother."  
  
"A _big_ brother."  Tommy drops into the seat next to Peter and takes one of the sandwiches from the stack that Bucky packed for Peter.  He takes a bite and eyes Peter smugly.  "I'm a sophomore."  
  
"You're a sophomore that I have to tutor in math," Peter shoots back.  He considers swiping his sandwich back but Tommy's already eaten half of it.  "What happened to _your_ lunch?"  
  
"I ate it.  Bucky knows how to pack a lunch."  
  
"How's your first day going?" Mary Jane asks Tommy.  
  
Tommy shrugs.  "School's school, you know.  This place is kind of a dump though.   My old school was a lot more modern."  
  
"Gee, what a shame you blew it up," Peter says. "You'd still be going there."  
  
"I heard this place got blown up three times because of _you_ , Spidey," Tommy sneers.  
  
"Shhh!"  
  
Tommy smirks and swipes Peter's dessert.  
  
Just as Peter is about to attempt to grab back the cookies that Mary Jane made for him, he sees Flash Thompson approaching.  Because of course his lunch period can't get any worse.  
  
"Yo, new kid," Flash calls.  
  
Tommy turns slowly and looks Flash up and down, silently sending the message that he's clearly not impressed by Flash or his three friends from the football team.  
  
Flash is smirking now because he knows he's attracted the attention of everybody in the cafeteria.  "What are you?  Another Parker cousin?  A _kissing_ cousin, like good ol' Sarge?"  
  
"Nah," Tommy says slowly as he slides out of his seat to face Flash.  He's shorter and more slender but the size difference doesn't matter.  Not with Tommy's mutant abilities.  "I'm one of those emotionally damaged foster kids you read about.  You know, like an abused pit bull that some kind family thinks they can rehabilitate until it loses its temper and rips some poor asshole's face off."  
  
"Is that so?" Flash sneers.  "You know what they do with those dogs, puppy?  They put 'em down."  
  
"Not without a fight."  
  
Peter winces.  He doesn't like the direction of this conversation.  At all.  And it's only Tommy's first day at Midtown High.  "Tommy --"  
  
"Tommy," Flash repeats and then his voice takes on a mocking lisp as he goes on. "Does Tommy want his mommy?  Was Tommy's mommy a crackhead?  Is that why Tommy's living in Pantywaist Parker's house with Parker's loony tune cousin?  And we all know about Parker's cousin, don't we guys?"  
  
Flash's dumb jock friends make kissing noises.  
  
Tommy lunges.  
  
Peter leaps out of his seat, putting himself between Flash and Tommy and ignores his blaring Spidey sense as he tries to stop the already out of control situation from getting any worse.  Tommy's fist connects with Peter's face instead of Flash's chest.  It's not the hardest Peter's been punched.  Not by a long shot.  But since it's a solid punch to his nose, the blood starts spurting immediately.  
  
Flash guffaws.  
  
Tommy lunges again.  
  
And chaos erupts.  
  
The last thing Peter sees before everybody dog piles him is the horrified look on Dean of Students Reynolds' face.    
  
  
  
  
00000000000000000000000000000  
  
  
  
**Bad Times at Midtown High**  
  
  
  
  
Barnes throws open the door to the Dean of Students' office to find Peter and Tommy sitting on a bench on one side of the office and Flash Thompson and three of his idiot friends standing across the room on the other.  The front of Petey's shirt is covered in blood and he's holding an ice pack to his nose.  His left eye is swelled shut.  Tommy has a cut over his left eye, a split lip and he's holding an ice pack to his hand.  
  
Flash Thompson doesn't have a scratch on him.  Neither do his friends.  
  
On the one hand, Barnes understands the importance of Peter and Tommy maintaining their secret identities.  On the other...  
  
"I should have known that Parker kid was causing trouble again."  The booming voice is coming from the doorway, from an overweight slob in a patrolman's uniform.  He's a vision of what Flash is going to look like in a few years when the muscle inevitably goes to fat because Flash doesn't have what it takes to go pro in sports.  Barnes can also detect the rancid scent of booze coming from the man's pores, which tells him all he needs to know about the elder Thompson.  "We're going to sue you this time, Parker!  You'll be living in a refrigerator box under the Queensboro Bridge when I get through with you."  
  
Barnes turns slowly and puts himself into the asshole's path.  "That's nothing compared to the lawsuit I'm going to slap you with, fathead senior.  Your kid's been harassing mine for months and his friends have been dumb enough to post videos of it on YouTube."  
  
Dean Reynolds comes flying out of his office.  "Sergeant Reilly!  Let's not be hasty!  I'm sure we can settle this without --"  
  
"Naming you as a party?" Foggy Nelson comes striding into the office and winks at Barnes as he takes his place at Barnes' side.  "Sorry I'm late."  He holds out a hand to Dean Reynolds.  "I'm Foggy Nelson of Nelson and Murdock and you, Dean Reynolds, have officially been served."  
  
Reynolds looks down in horror at the piece of paper that Foggy's just slapped into his hand.  
  
Foggy hands another document to the elder Thompson.  "You, Harrison Thompson, have also been served.  And I am also serving you with this restraining order.  Your son, Eugene, must stay at least five hundred feet away from Peter at all times.  I'll be serving you with a second restraining order for Tommy later today but you should probably warn Eugene over there to pretend it exists now in order to avoid being named in a second lawsuit."  
  
"Eugene?" Tommy echoes.  
  
Peter elbows him sharply in the ribs.  "Shut up!"  
  
Thompson senior stares down at the complaint in disbelief.  "Post traumatic stress disorder?  Emotional distress?  One hundred thousand dollars?"  
  
"Plus costs and punitive damages," Foggy says sweetly.  He turns back to Dean Reynolds.  "We're alleging that you and the school are jointly and severally liable since you were on notice about the bullying and chose to take no action.  It might help your case if you suspend Mr. Thompson.  In the meantime, Peter and Tommy are leaving for home now.  They need medical attention and if necessary, we'll amend the lawsuit to reflect that as well.  Have a nice day."  
  
Barnes grabs Tommy with one hand and Petey with the other and hauls them to their feet, dragging them from the office, down the stairs and out into the street where he lets go and turns to Foggy.  "Thank you."  
  
"I know it wasn't as satisfying as going in there and beating everyone to a pulp," Foggy begins.  
  
"Are you kidding?  That was _more_ satisfying," Barnes tell him.  "Fathead senior didn't see _that_ coming.   I'm glad I talked to you about that bullying lawsuit I saw in the news."  
  
"I'm glad you did, too.  We might even get a settlement out of this."  Foggy snorts a laugh.  "Your call came at the perfect time.  I just finished opening arguments in front of a very friendly judge who was bullied in school when she was a kid.  She was more than happy to sign the restraining order for me."  
  
Barnes shakes Foggy's hand.  "I appreciate it."  
  
Foggy waves and heads for the subway.  
  
Both kids cast looks of pure misery in Barnes' direction.  
  
He prolongs their misery by not saying a word as he marches the pair the entire eight blocks home.   Steering the boys to the sofa, Barnes folds his arms over his chest and eyes them sternly.  "So."  
  
"It's _his_ fault!"  Tommy points at Petey.  
  
Petey's mouth drops open.  "Mine?  Dude, you _punched_ me in the face!"  
  
"You got in the way!"  
  
"Because you could have killed Flash if you hit him that hard!"  
  
"Yeah?  Well, look what you did to me!"  Tommy raises both arms, displaying a ring of bruises around each wrist.  "While you were holding me back, those clowns beat the snot out of me and I don't heal fast like you do!"  
  
"So it was okay for them to stomp on me because I have a healing factor?" Petey demands incredulously.  "Wow, you are really a --"  
  
"Enough!" Barnes thunders.    
  
The boys fall silent.  
  
He eyes Tommy.   "Here's how this works, Tommy.  You don't get in fights at school until you learn how to pull your punches."  
  
"What?!" Petey squawks.  
  
"Nobody saw Tommy get bit by a spider," Barnes says.  "He wants to rough house, that's fine with me as long as he's smart about it.  That means not getting caught and not using too much force."  
  
Tommy snorts.  "You got your powers from getting bitten by a spider?  Dude, that's so lame!"  
  
"I got mine from being experimented on by HYDRA," Barnes snaps.  "I'd have preferred getting bit by a damn spider."  
  
Tommy sobers immediately.  "Sorry, Bucky."  
  
"I'm not the one you need to apologize to, punk."  
  
The two boys look at each other.  
  
"Go on," Barnes says.  "Petey did the right thing and from the looks of him, he took the brunt of your beating for you."  
  
"My beating?" Tommy echoes.  
  
Barnes nods.  "Petey doesn't get into fights at school --"  
  
"No, he gets atomic wedgies and locker knockers because he's --"  
  
"Protecting his identity," Barnes finishes.  "So I know without either of you telling me that Flash came looking for trouble and you gave it to him.  Petey stopped you from making things worse and you gave him a bloody nose for his effort."  
  
Tommy blows out a sigh.  "Thank you, Petey."  
  
"Bite me, you jackass," Peter grumbles.    
  
"For the sake of what little sanity I have, could you two _try_ to get along?" Barnes demands.  "And if not for me, for Aunt May.  The two of you are driving her up the friggin' wall with your bickering."  
  
"He stole my web shooters!  And my lunch!" Peter declares indignantly.  
  
"I took one lousy sandwich," Tommy shoots back.  "You had a giant stack of them."  
  
"I didn't have a giant stack of cookies and you took those!"  
  
"Your girlfriend didn't mind."  
  
"Stay away from her."  
  
"Why?  You think she likes me better?"  
  
Barnes manages to grab Petey just in time.  Aunt May swears the boys will learn to get along.  Eventually.  
  
He hopes that happens before he's a hundred.  
  
  
  
0000000000000  
  
  
  
**Later, on the Upper West Side**  
  
  
  
  
Billy Kaplan knows something is up when his mother comes home with Chinese food.  Balanced, healthy meals are a way of life in the Kaplan household, especially with a father who's a cardiologist and a mother who's a psychologist.  Then again, with two professional parents, takeout is also a way of life in the Kaplan household.  
  
"We're not waiting for Dad?" Billy asks his mother.  
  
Rebecca Kaplan shakes her head.  "One of his patients is in the hospital.  He's going to be late."  And then she mutters under her breath, "The one time I needed him here..."  
  
"Mom?"  
  
"Nothing.  Set the table."  
  
Billy sets the table and waits for his mother to change out of her suit and into her house clothes.  His relationship with his parents isn't strained, exactly, but things between them have been weird since he came out.  For the second time.  As a mutant.  The first time was supposed to have been him explaining he was a mutant but instead, his parents embraced his homosexuality and welcomed Teddy to the family.  This latest time?  His coming out had a lot of baggage attached to it.  
  
His mother pours herself a glass of wine and reaches for the container of pork lo mein.  
  
"Is everything okay, Mom?" Billy asks because everything is clearly _not_ okay.  His mother almost never has wine with dinner.  
  
"Your father and I want to invite your other family members over for Passover."  
  
Billy blinks.  "I-I'm not s-sure they celebrate it."  
  
"Invite them anyway," his mother says firmly.  
  
"Which ones?"  
  
"All of them."  
  
"Um..."  Billy looks around the dining room.  "That's kind of a lot of people."  He starts ticking off names on his fingers.  "Wanda, Pietro, Tommy, Erik, Peter, Bucky, Steve, Aunt May, Jessica, Matt --"  
  
"Billy, I said your other family members not all of your friends."  
  
"Well," Billy says slowly.  "They're kind of the same thing.  Tommy is living with Peter, Bucky and Aunt May.  We'd have to invite them, right?"  
  
His mother nods.  "I suppose."  
  
"Steve is Peter's other dad.  Adoptive," Billy adds hastily when his mother looks confused.  "Jessica is Peter's, uh, twin.  Matt is her adoptive father.  And then there's Gwen, who's their --"  
  
"No."  Billy's mother rubs the bridge of her nose.  "You will invite Wanda, Pietro, Tommy and, uh, Erik.  That's all."  
  
Billy swallows hard and steels himself.  "Erik's going to ask if we can invite Peter and since Tommy is living with Aunt May and Bucky..."  
  
"Fine," Billy's mother sighs.  "Tell them it's going to be a traditional Passover meal.  Matzo ball soup, brisket, gefilte fish, the works."  
  
"From Zabar's?" Billy asks, referring to the famous Jewish specialty food store on the Upper West Side where every Passover dinner his mother ever served came from.  
  
She eyes him reproachfully.  "You know I don't have time to cook.  Not with the deadline for my latest book hanging over me and that class I'm teaching at Hunter College."  
  
"Are you sure you want to do this?"  
  
"Your father and I discussed it, Billy."  His mother purses her lips in thought.  "You know, why don't you invite Captain Rogers, too?  You say he's Peter's other father?"  
  
Billy knows the real reason why his mother wants Steve there and it's not because he's Peter's other dad.  Still, that just gives him the opening he needs to ask, "Can I invite Teddy?"  
  
"Fine," his mother relents with a sigh.  "Call everyone after dinner and let me know who's coming."  Under her breath she adds, "Your father is going to owe me a prescription of Valium for this."  
  
Billy has the feeling his mother is going to need every single pill.

 

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2  
  
  
  
**We Are Family**  
  
  
  
  
"This isn't baseball."  
  
Sam just rolls his eyes at Steve and then he takes the bait anyway.  Just like Steve knew he would.  After all, they've had this 'discussion' at least a dozen times before.  "You're still carrying a grudge because the Dodgers moved to LA."  
  
"Damn right I am," Steve says proudly as he repeats his familiar refrain.  "I'll never root for the Yankees and I have no idea what the Mets are supposed to be."  
  
"Don't let the mayor hear you say that," Sam chides.  "Besides, I seem to remember seeing you throwing the first pitch on opening day last year and at the World Series."  
  
"Yeah, but I wore a Brooklyn Dodgers cap both times."  
  
"And nearly broke Twitter."  Sam hands Steve a beer and sighs.  "The Dodgers ain't comin' back, my friend.  It's time to pick a team."  
  
Steve grins.  "So says the Orioles fan."  
  
"When I lived in DC.  Now that I'm back in New York, it's Yankees all the way."  Sam leans back against the sofa and grins.    
  
"Which makes you a fair weather fan."  
  
"Which makes chatting up the pretty local ladies a lot easier," Sam corrects him with a grin.  The grin fades as he looks over Steve's shoulder.  
  
Steve turns to see Erik coming through the doorway.  To say Erik hasn't had an easy time fitting in is an understatement.  His relationship with Wanda is halting and awkward and his son, Pietro, barely acknowledges him.  Clint and Natasha are cordial, Clint especially since he's been spending time with Mystique, the team's other guest in this new facility.  "Sam is trying to force me to choose a side."  
  
"I've never cared for this sport myself," Erik shrugs and then he smiles wistfully.  "As I proved, perhaps, when I tore RFK Stadium from the ground in 1973."  
  
"I always thought you were protesting the Senators move to Texas," Sam says.  
  
Steve and Erik stare at him.  
  
Sam sighs.  "The Washington Senators used to play in that stadium.  They moved to Texas in 1971.  Became the Texas Rangers."  He shakes his head at the blank looks leveled in his direction.  "You," he says pointing at Steve, "have some excuse for not knowing that but you --"  
  
"I was in prison," Erik says, raising both hands in mock surrender.  "In a secure cell beneath the Pentagon.  Your great American pastime was the last thing on my mind."  
  
"For killing JFK, right?" Sam asks.  
  
"Allegedly."  
  
An awkward silence descends because there are unsubstantiated rumors that it was Bucky who killed JFK.  
  
Erik clears his throat.  "He was a mutant."  
  
"Say what?"  Sam is staring wide-eyed at Erik.  "JFK?!"  
  
"I was trying to save him."  
  
Sam sighs again and shakes his head.  "You've lived a life, haven't you?"  
  
"Just so."    
  
Steve hands the man a beer and gestures to the empty chairs.  "Join us?"  
  
"Thank you."  Erik settles into the chair and frowns for a while at the game being played on the screen.  Finally, he says, "Billy called to invite me to dinner."  
  
"That's _great_ ," Sam tells him.    
  
"A Passover seder," Erik attempts to clarify.  
  
"Okay," Sam says cautiously.    
  
"With his family."  
  
"And you don't like them because they're not mutants?"  Sam catches the look Erik levels at him and shrugs.  "Look, I'm not a mind reader here.  You want my advice, which I'm thinking you do because you'd _never_ subject yourself to American sports otherwise, you're going to have to be a little more specific, Erik."  
  
Sam is the only other person besides Steve that Erik actively seeks out for conversation.  Then again, _everyone_ is comfortable speaking with Sam.  It's not only his profession, it's his gift.  He has an easygoing nature in addition to being a skilled counselor.  And that's in addition to being an Avenger.  
  
Erik leans forward and it's obvious he's choosing his words carefully.  "Billy's parents have invited his extended family."  He turns to Steve.  "I understand you are also among the invitees."  
  
Steve can feel his cheeks coloring as Sam stares at him.  "Because of Peter."  
  
"And Peter is related to you how?" Sam asks Erik.  
  
"I consider him a grandson," Erik says with a very European shrug.  "Tommy lives with him and Billy saw fit to invite Peter's aunt and Sergeant Barnes as well."  
  
"Okay then," Sam says slowly as understanding dawns.  " _Now_ I get it."  He turns to Steve.  "And I get why you're on the guest list."  
  
"Maybe I'm on the list because I like brisket," Steve shoots back.  
  
"Keep telling yourself that."  
  
"I'm Peter's other father?"  Steve can't resist needling Sam, especially after their debate about the Yankees, Mets and the Dodgers.  
  
Sam nods in agreement.  "Absolutely, Steve.  You're Peter's other daddy.  I swear, that kid attracts family members like some kind of magnet..."  He trails off and turns back to Erik.  "You sure he's not related to you somehow?"  
  
"Regretfully, no."  
  
"It's the eyes," Sam decides.  "The kid's got puppy dog eyes like nobody's business."  
  
Steve arches an eyebrow.  "What concerns me is that you've been immune to his charms so far, Sam.  And you're the only one of us without --"  
  
"Oh no!  No!  No!  No, absolutely not.  I'm happy to be the only Avenger without a baby Avenger of my own."  Sam raises both hands as if to ward off the idea.  
  
"I don't know, Sam," Steve goes on.  "Teddy has wings.  You have wings --"  
  
"No!"  Sam sniffs indignantly.  "Besides, which kid has Stark adopted?  Or Bruce?"  
  
"Stark and Bruce share custody of Peter with us and Tony's pretty much adopted Peter's girlfriend."  
  
Sam nods vehemently.  "See?  That's what I'm talking about.  Peter's gone and got himself _four_ daddies and a Grandpa Magneto.  That's gotta be some kind of super power."  
  
Erik chuckles softly but he's not smiling.  "I wonder if Billy's parents will be as amused."  
  
"Well, as situations go, it's unconventional."  Sam is all business now because they've finally arrived at what's bothering Erik.  "How have they handled it so far?"  
  
"I helped Billy break the news about being a mutant," Steve says.  "His parents were more afraid _for_ Billy which speaks volumes about them and they liked the idea that he helped me."  
  
"But," Erik prompts.  He's heard all of this before and so has Sam.  
  
"But they had a hard time with the idea of Wanda, Pietro, Tommy and Erik."  
  
"Dinner's a big step then," Sam says.  "My suggestion?  Bring a really good bottle of Kosher wine and don't mention anything about Homo Sapiens as mutant foodstuffs.  That tends to be a real conversation killer."  
  
"I was being mind controlled by -- never mind."  Erik heaves a weary sigh.  "It's not important."  
  
Steve sits up straight.  "I thought your helmet protected you from that kind of thing."  
  
"And so it would have, had I been wearing it when I attempted to infiltrate the Hellfire Club.  Fortunately, Charles came along to save me and his students put a stop to...  Really, Steven!"  Erik gives him a reproachful look.  "You have me telling tales again."  
  
"Your stories are hella interesting, no lie," Sam says.  "But you might want to hold back during dinner with Billy's folks.  The good news is, you'll have Steve there so he's going to be your wingman."  
  
"And Aunt May.  Nobody can steer a conversation away from an awkward topic like Aunt May," Steve says.  "Except for Sam."  He grins at Sam.  "Maybe you should adopt Peter and come to dinner, too."  
  
"No!  I'm child free and happy."  
  
"Those," Steve tells him, "are famous last words."  
  
"Don't you go invoking the Ol' Parker Luck, Rogers!  I mean it!"  
  
Steve doesn't have the heart to tell Sam that it's too late.    
  
The Ol' Parker Luck is already in motion.  
  
  
  
0000000000000000000000  
  
  
  
  
**Breaking, Entering and Bonding**  
  
  
  
  
"Freeze!"  
  
"You might wanna rethink that," Barnes tells the man.  "I'm holding a Walther PPK .380 and you're armed with...  What is that?"  
  
"It's a plaster trowel."  The guy has guts, Barnes has to give him that.  He's not backing down.  "I'm not the one breaking and entering.  You turn around and go back the way you came in.  Which, I noticed, was not the window with the fire escape.  But hey, I'm not going to argue with you.  Just... Go."  
  
Barnes keeps his gun trained on Plaster Guy.  "I remember you.  You're the junkie from down the hall.  What're you doing in Jones' apartment?"  
  
"Plastering."  Plaster Guy is perfectly sober and doesn't smell like smack this time.  He smells like soap, sweat and plaster.  He's taken down the giant poster that covered what was apparently a gaping hole that went straight through Jones' living room wall to her bedroom.  The hole is in the process of being repaired.  Badly.  "The name's Malcolm Ducasse.  You must be Bucky Barnes.  Jessica warned me you might come through the window for a visit in the middle of the night.  Anyway, she's not here."  
  
"Where is she?"  Barnes slips the gun back into its holster and moves in to inspect the giant hole in the wall.  There are other posters taped in haphazard locations across the apartment that Barnes figured were just examples of Jones' bad decorating skills.  Now he goes through the apartment, peeling them back and exposing craters, dents and large holes.  "What the hell happened here?"  
  
"Look, Bucky... uh, Mister Bar -- uh _Sergeant_ Barnes..."  Malcolm is trailing him, still brandishing the trowel.  "If Jessica didn't tell you, it's probably not my place."  
  
Barnes snatches the trowel from Malcolm's hand and stalks back to the giant hole in Jones' living room.  "Gimme that.  Where did you learn to plaster anyway?  You're doing it wrong."  
  
"It's plastering."  
  
"First of all, you don't fill a hole in a wall with just plaster," Barnes lectures him.  "You need fiberglass mesh.  How do you not know that?"    
  
Malcolm stares at him indignantly.  "I don't know that because I'm a social worker, not a member of Plasterers Local Whatever.  And why do _you_ know that?  Aren't you supposed to be some scary assassin now?  What?  Did you hide the dead bodies inside walls or something?"  
  
"I watch HGTV," Barnes shrugs.  "And no, I never bothered hiding the bodies.  I just killed 'em.  Disposing of 'em was somebody else's job."  
  
"I don't have fiberglass mesh."  
  
"Well, you're not going to be able to fix this hole.  You can fill in a few of the smaller ones," Barnes tells him.  He sticks his hand through the hole and shakes his head.  "Seriously, pal, what happened here?"  
  
"I can't --"  
  
"Can't protect Jones if the guy who did this comes back?  Damn right you can't.  I can."  
  
"She can protect herself," Malcolm says.  "She's a hero."  
  
Barnes stares hard at him.  "She saved you, didn't she?"  
  
"More than once.  First time, she saved me from being mugged."  He squares his shoulders.  "Second time, I was Kilgraved.  Guy hooked me on dope and had me spying on her and not only did she save me from him, but she got me off the drugs.  Then he made me hang myself before she cut me down.  That's why I'm here.  Why are _you_ here?"  
  
"I'm here because Jones is my friend."  Barnes lets that hang for a second and then pumps the guy for information.  "How come Jones was immune to Kilgrave?"  
  
Malcolm shakes his head.  "She never really explained it other than she broke free from him before."  
  
"Yeah," Barnes says.  His heart speeds up as he forces the lie out.  "I still can't believe he had her under his control like that."  
  
"Eight months," Malcolm agrees.  "I ran a support group for a little while and got an idea of what he did to some of his victims.  Jessica had it much worse than they did."  
  
Before he can stop himself, Barnes growls and punches another hole straight through Jones' wall.  He makes a note to buy fiberglass mesh and bring it by in the morning.  
  
"Y-you didn't know.  Oh my God... She's going to kill me."  
  
Barnes bares his teeth in a not-so-nice smile.  "Since that's the case and since I'm the only one who can protect you from her, how about telling me what happened to Jones' walls, hmm?"  
  
Of course Malcolm starts spilling his guts.  
  
Barnes starts plastering while he listens.  He figures it'll give Jones one less thing to be pissed off about later.

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

  
**AKA Plastered**  
  
  
  
  
The lights are on in my apartment when I get off the elevator at a little after four in the morning.  Either Malcolm developed a whole new work ethic or he left the lights on.  He's usually much more conscientious about locking up.  
  
And then I hear it.  
  
Laughter coming from my apartment.  
  
Followed by the rhythmic pounding of a hammer.  
  
I immediately recognize the cheers and applause as belonging to my neighbors, Robyn and Malcolm, which begs the question, who the fuck else is in my apartment?  Since there's only one person who drops by unannounced in the middle of the night, _that_ fucking mystery is easily solved.  
  
Throwing open the door, I prepare to throw everyone out but I stop short.  Nothing could have prepared me for the sight of Bucky fucking Barnes, aka the Winter Soldier, aka Death himself, fixing my damaged bookshelves while boring-as-shit-old-timey big band music plays in the background.  Barnes' long-sleeved T-shirt is completely wrong for the warm weather and it's damp with sweat, clinging to his body in all the right places.  Black jeans are slung low on his hips and they hug all the right places, too.  Not that I'm looking or anything.  
  
"And that, kids, is how you use a level," Barnes announces gaily.  "C'mere, Robyn, and show me how it's done."  He knows I'm there because _nobody_ gets the jump on him.  Ever.  He turns slowly and winks at me.  "Hey, Jones."  
  
Malcolm starts violently and immediately gets a guilty look on his face.  "Um, wow.  It's really late.  I guess we should get going, right, Robyn?"  
  
"If all the banging, crashing and cursing is finally done," she sniffs.  "Some of us are trying to sleep."  
  
There's a moment where I consider stiff-arming her out but instead I smile politely as she leaves.  I don't let Malcolm get off that lucky.  Him, I grab by the shirt, haul him out into the hallway and hiss, "What the fuck, Malcolm?"  
  
"He was better at plastering," Malcolm attempts.  "And then he wanted to fix your bookshelves but we didn't have a level.  Robyn had one and she also had brackets --"  
  
"You know what?"  I let go of him.  "Whatever.  It's late.  My night was shit to begin with.  I'm blaming the Ol' Parker Luck for everything."  With that, I push him towards his own apartment and stomp back inside to see Barnes straightening the last bookshelf.  "What the fuck are you doing?"  
  
He ignores me and sets the level down on the shelf, grunting in satisfaction.  Finally, he turns to me, pulling off his sweaty T-shirt as he goes and giving me a good look at a shirtless James Buchanan Barnes.  He's covered in a light sheen of sweat and his torso is mostly hairless.  His pecs and abs would make the most hardcore gym rat cry with envy.  What holds my attention, though, is the spot where his gleaming metal arm attaches to his body.  The area is heavily scarred and I have to wonder about that because the rest of him is perfect, thanks to his super soldier healing factor.  How much damage had to be inflicted -- how much pain did he suffer -- that it left scars on a body that's made to heal from the most catastrophic injury?  
  
Barnes brushes past me, walks over to my desk and pulls out my bottle of bourbon, helping himself to some.  "Don't be too pissed off at the boy.  He had no idea what he was doing with that plaster."  
  
"Boy?" I echo, hitting the 'off' button on my CD player a little too hard.  "You racist piece of --"  
  
"Boy, as in he's a third of my age, Jones," Barnes says indignantly.  "If that much."  
  
I decide to try a different offensive and jerk an angry thumb towards the giant hole between my living room and bedroom and what's obviously its new little friend.  " _He_ didn't know what he was doing?  How come _that's_ still there?  And why is there a new one?"  
  
"It's still there because you need fiberglass mesh and the other one was me fucking up, okay?"  
  
"Big surprise there."  I snatch the bottle of bourbon from him and help myself.  Not that I need much help.  I've just spent the night in a dive bar down in Alphabet City, tracking down leads and it's impossible to do that and _not_ drink.  Especially when the shots are all buybacks from the bartender.  "What'd you do, trip and put your hand through my wall?"  
  
"No," Barnes says slowly and the way he's clenching his teeth tells me immediately that he's lying.  HYDRA conditioned Barnes never to lie.  "I wanted to see how much force that Will Simpson asshole had to use to do it."  
  
And that's when I know Malcolm must have told Barnes _everything_.  "Get out!"  
  
He huffs out a frustrated breath and then slowly, deliberately walks over to the spot behind my desk just beneath the bullet holes in the wall that he obviously filled in earlier.  Barnes cocks his head slightly and says, "Your kitchen cabinet doors are hanging off their hinges."  
  
"Fuck my kitchen cabinet doors, Barnes!"  
  
"Your bathroom door needs to be replaced."  
  
"I like it like that.  The mirror doesn't fog up anymore."  
  
"A guy was _killed_ in your bed."  
  
"Fucking Malcolm!"  
  
The next thing I know, Barnes is in front of me, his hands gripping my shoulders firmly.  "I'm your friend, Jones.  I'll fix your fucking cabinet doors or put one in the head of that Simpson asshole, whatever you want.  You want me to go, I'll do that too."  
  
"I'm going to bed, Barnes.  I'm fucking exhausted."  I shrug his hands off and stop just at the doorway of my bedroom.  "I replaced the mattress."  With that, I kick off my boots, tug off my jeans, toss my shirt on the floor and climb under the covers.  
  
The lights in the living room-slash-main office go out and I listen for the sound of a window opening or the door closing.  Instead, the bed dips beside me and Barnes rests a hand on my hip.  "I'll hit the hardware store in the morning and finish fixing this place up.  You want me to paint, too?"  
  
"What's wrong with the paint I have?"    
  
"Nothing, if you don't mind prospective clients walking in and wondering what the fuck happened here."  
  
"Fine but nothing cheerful."  
  
"God forbid, Jones."  
  
"I mean it, Barnes.  You show up here with pink paint and you're going to drink it."  
  
"Would I do that?"  
  
I roll over and face him in the semi darkness.  "You're the biggest asshole I've ever met, Barnes.  Of course you'd do that."  
  
He flips me off with his cybernetic left hand, the gesture illuminated by the street lights filtering in through the blinds and reflecting on my wall.  Then he drops his hand to my hip again.  The metal is cool on my skin but it warms up fast.  
  
We both know why he's staying.  
  
And we both know how I feel about his overprotectiveness.  
  
We also both know that him getting into my bed and touching me like this is a monumentally huge step for him.  
  
I decide to give him a break and close my eyes.  
  
I'm asleep in minutes.  
  
  
  
00000000000000000  
  
  
  
  
**Flash Thompson and the Ol' Parker Luck**  
  
  
  
  
  
Flash Thompson is having the shittiest day of his life.  Things just keep _happening_.  Weird things.  Like this morning, when his sneaker laces somehow got tied together and he landed face first in the hallway.  In front of his friends.  
  
Then his pen exploded in English class.  Like actually _exploded_.  Flash ended up covered in blue in ink that he still hasn't been able to scrub off.  
  
And then there was gym class.  Poor Flash missed every.  Single.  Basket.  His coach really let him have it for _that_.  
  
The best part?  The day isn't over yet.  
  
Tommy saunters over to Peter's table at lunch where Petey is whining about Dean Reynolds.  The Dean showed up in every class Peter has with Flash with a tape measure to make sure the five hundred foot rule in the restraining order is strictly enforced.  Poor Petey is mortified at being the object of attention.  Tommy thinks he needs to man up.  
  
"You think Flash is enjoying his run of the Ol' Parker Luck?" Tommy asks, dropping into the seat next to Mary Jane and reaching for one of Petey's sandwiches.  
  
Mary Jane slaps his hand and snatches the sandwich before Tommy can take a bite.  She grins, takes a bite and then hands it back to Peter.  
  
Peter narrows his eyes at Tommy.  "You'd better cool it."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"Because..."  Peter drops his voice into a whisper.  "You're using your powers."  
  
"I promised Bucky I wouldn't use my fists until I learned how to pull my punches," Tommy shrugs.  "I never promised not to use my powers.  Besides, who's going to put two and two together and come up Speed?"  He smirks.  "Anyway, isn't it about time that asshole had a bad day?"  
  
Heaving a deep sigh, Peter says, "As long as it's just one.  Anything more than that is going to be suspicious.  And no more blowing stuff up."  
  
"It was just a pen."  
  
"What I want to know is, how did you do all that?" Mary Jane asks.  "I never even noticed you in our English class and that door creaks."  
  
Tommy winks at her.  "I didn't come through the door."  
  
"Then how?"  
  
"Petey knows," he says smugly.  "Right, boy scientist?"  
  
Peter's eyes go wide as he puts it together.  "You can move _that_ fast?  Fast enough to vibrate through a solid wall?!"  
  
"Yup."   Tommy glances over his shoulder towards the table where Flash is holding court with his loser friends.  There's a can of Coke in front of Flash and it's more temptation than Tommy can resist.  He zips out of his seat, shakes the can vigorously and settles back into his seat without anybody noticing.  "Get your umbrellas ready, kids."  
  
"How hard did you shake that can?" Peter asks because he may be naive but he's no idiot.  
  
"Pretty hard."  He decides not to mention tying Flash's laces together again.  "C'mon, Petey.  I saw that picture of you with the condoms.  Don't tell me you're not enjoying this."  
  
Peter goes pale. "You saw that?"  
  
"Now you've got big brother Tommy looking out for you, Petey-boy.  It's gonna be a whole new ballgame from here on out."    
  
"But --"  Whatever else Peter was going to complain about is lost when there's a high pitched screech from Flash's table.  
  
Flash _and_ his friends are wearing Coke and it's the saddest thing that none of them has a napkin to clean up the mess.  They all get up to get paper towels from the boys' room and promptly fall on their faces because, somehow, their shoelaces all got tied together.  Except for Flash.  He goes down alone and lands ass-first in a puddle of Coke.  
  
The Ol' Parker Luck.  
  
It's a beautiful thing.  
  
  
  
  



	4. Chapter 4

  
  
  
**Fixing a Hole (or Four)**  
  
  
  
Barnes has just finished mounting the custom-cut fiberglass mesh panel over the gaping hole in Jones' living room wall when the blonde walks in.  In under a second, he's clocked her as a low-level threat and identified her as Patricia Walker, also known as Patsy, also known as Trish.  Child star.  Talk show host.  Jones' adoptive sister.  
  
Trish stops in her tracks and then shakes her head at Jones, who's sitting behind her desk doing God-knows-what on her laptop.  "Bucky Barnes is fixing your drywall.  Why is _Bucky Barnes_ fixing your drywall?!"  
  
"Death is good with spackle.  Who knew?" Jones shrugs.  
  
"Death?" Barnes echoes.  
  
Jones smiles sweetly and ignores him, just like she's been ignoring him all morning.  She takes Trish's arm and steers her out of the apartment and into the hallway.  "What did you find out?"  
  
"You know I can hear you, Jones," Barnes calls.  
  
"Can you hear this?"  
  
"I'm not fuckin' Daredevil, Jones but I don't need to be to know you just flipped me off with both hands."  
  
"He's your boyfriend, isn't he?" Trish hisses but not so softly that Barnes can't make it out.  
  
"No!" Jones protests vehemently.  
  
"You've never mentioned him."  
  
"Exactly."  
  
"Just like you never mentioned Lu---"  
  
"Shhh!  Dammit, he can hear you.  He's got super hearing."  
  
"Then why are we still in the hallway?"  Trish comes back into Jones' apartment and comes up to Barnes, smiling brightly.  "Hi, I'm Trish Walker."  
  
Barnes gives her his most charming smile.  "James Barnes.  I catch your show every once in a while.  Been real helpful on catching me up with current events.  Stevie never misses it."  
  
"Stevie?" Trish blinks at him.  
  
Jones rolls her eyes.  "Stevie.  Captain America.  Barnes is trying to impress you with all his celebrity friends."  
  
Trish, of course, takes the bait Barnes just dangled in front of her.  "I'd love to have both of you on."  
  
"I'm kind of shy," Barnes tells her, "But Stevie might be interested."  
  
It turns out that Trish is just as sharp as Jones because her eyes narrow at him.  "In exchange for what, Mr. Barnes?"  
  
"Nothin' really.  I just wanna know what you found out, too."  
  
Jones blows out an exasperated breath.  "You don't even know what she was looking into, for fuck's sake!"  
  
Barnes eyes her.  "If you don't want me to know about it, it's either that Simpson asshole or something about the ATCU because I know you're not letting that one lie either."  
  
"He knows about Simpson?" Trish blinks at Jones.  
  
"Fucking Malcolm and his big goddamned mouth."  Jones glares at Barnes.  "Luckily, Malcolm only knows enough to be fucking dangerous and not anything of substance so neither does Barnes."  
  
"Barnes ain't stupid, Jones."  He jerks a gleaming metal thumb towards the hole he's patching.  "Guy who did this was either some kind of fucked up super soldier experiment or hopped up on mutant growth hormone.  A mutant wouldn't be this erratic.  They know how to control their abilities."  
  
"He was on some kind of combat enhancers," Trish tells him.  
  
"Jesus, Trish!"  
  
Trish ignores Jones.  "Color coded pills.  Red, white and blue.  The doctor's name was Kozlov.  Any of it sound familiar?"  
  
Barnes shakes his head.  "Sounds like HYDRA though."  
  
"Everything sounds like HYDRA to you," Jones snaps.  "It's not HYDRA.  It's a company called IGH.  And we're not focusing on that now."  
  
"Which brings us back to the name," Trish says.  She reaches into her purse and pulls out a sheaf of paper.  "The person Gyrich appointed to run the ATCU was Rosalind Price."  
  
Jones scowls.  "What do you mean 'was'?"  
  
"She was murdered in her apartment in Georgetown two weeks ago.  That's all I've been able to get.  No past history, nobody seems to know who she was or who worked with her."  Trish hands the papers to Jones.  "I've got crime scene photos and a police report but the case was taken over by the FBI and then it was taken out of _their_ hands but they won't tell me by who."  
  
Barnes takes the crime scene photos and sees that Price took a single shot to the neck.  "Table was set for two.  Who was she eating with?"  
  
"It doesn't say in the report," Jones says.  "Could it have been the shooter?"  
  
He shows her the photo.  "The shooter used a rifle. Whoever else was there was just a secondary target and the shooter left him alive on purpose."  
  
"How do you know it was a him?" Trish asks.  
  
Barnes points to the flowers scattered on the table, lying in water and the shards of a vase.  "Flowers, bottle of wine.  Lipstick on only one glass."  
  
"This one's a keeper, Jess," Trish decides with a smile.    
  
Jones flips her off.  "Why don't you keep him then?"  
  
Trish grins up at Barnes.  "Don't let her fool you, Bucky.  She likes you.  She never talks about the ones she likes and she's never mentioned you."  
  
"Jesus, Trish," Jones groans.  
  
Barnes grins like the cat who ate the canary and then moves the conversation back to a more comfortable subject for Jones.  "What else do you know about the ATCU?"  
  
"Not much.  I've been trying to make contact with the Rising Tide to see what they know," Jones admits.  
  
"Who?!"  
  
"Hacktivists," Trish says.  "They exposed SHIELD secrets before SHIELD fell and they're tracking information that the government tracks about people with abilities.  Supposedly, there's a member called Micro that can help us but we don't exactly move in those circles so it's been hard.  Rising Tide doesn't care much for conventional media."  
  
Barnes cuts his eyes to Jones.  "You know the ATCU closed the facility in Jersey, right?"  
  
"Cleared it out overnight," she agrees.  
  
"Maybe not.  Maybe they missed a few things."  He stretches and the metal plates in his arm click and whir softly with the movement.  Barnes is well aware of Jones' eyes on him and she's not focusing on his arm, either.  "You busy tonight, Jones?"  
  
"I was planning on washing my hair," Jones shoots back.  
  
"How about we go cut a rug in Springfield instead?"  
  
"I want in," Trish says quickly and then adds, "I can handle myself.  Tell him, Jessica."  
  
Barnes looks at her.  "You got powers?"  
  
"No, but I'm proficient in Krav Maga."  Trish grins up at him.  "And even better, I'm a celebrity.  I can get away with things neither of you can."  
  
"Hell," Barnes says, "that's the best super power of 'em all."  
  
Trish gives him a thumbs up.  "I like him, Jessica."  
  
Jones flips them both off.  
  
  
  
00000000000000  
  
  
  
**Chips on My Shoulder**  
  
  
  
"Is it so hard for you to leave me alone?"  
  
It goes without saying that Ellie Phimister is most definitely _not_ a people person.  Why else would she take the mutant name of Negasonic Teenage Warhead?  So here's the thing.  People might not leave Ellie Phimister alone but they keep their distance from Negasonic Teenage Warhead.  And not just because she's a goth.  
  
The only person stupid enough not to keep his distance is Deadpool.  Stupidity is the only reason that NTW can come up with for him materializing in her dorm room, for fuck's sake.    
  
"Leave you alone?  I can't _leave you alone_."  Deadpool claps a hand over the wrong side of his chest and then quickly corrects himself.  "You did me a solid so I'm going to do _you_ a solid."  
  
"Then leave."  Professor X has to know Deadpool is here.  The man knows everything.  Any second now, Wolverine is going to come bursting through her dorm room door, splintering it because turning a door knob is completely beneath him but NTW doesn't really give a shit.  It's not like it's her house.  "Seriously, get the fuck out."  
  
"I owe you, Ellie Phimister, and Deadpool always repays his debts."  In an undertone, Deadpool adds, "I can see why you changed your name."  
  
NTW flips him off.  
  
"I know what's going to put a smile on that unnaturally pale face, Ellie," Deadpool cajoles.  "His name rhymes with Cider-Man.  He's a good buddy of mine and I happen to know he's single and a real catch!  You two are really going to hit it off.  In fact, I'm hearing wedding bells, Ellie!"  
  
"I've met him," NTW says, unimpressed.  "Parker's a dork."  
  
Deadpool sighs and buries his face in his hand.  "Yes, _Parker_ is a dork but Spidey?  Have you seen him swinging around on his webs and taking out evil doers?  He's a real badass, Ellie.  And speaking of his ass, he's got a real cute one, not that I'm allowed to notice things like that because his daddy is the Winter Soldier and he'd rip my eyes out if I said that in front of him."  
  
Wolverine is taking his sweet fucking time, NTW thinks.  And then it occurs to her that maybe he's not coming.  Maybe he's laughing his ass off and taking bets about whether NTW ends up on a date with Peter fucking Dorker.    
  
She opens her mouth to emphatically repeat her refrain of 'get the fuck out' just as Deadpool grabs her hand.  
  
And then it's too late.  
  
NTW is in fucking _Queens_.  In front of Dorker's school.  With Deadpool.  
  
"I'm going to kill you."  
  
"You wouldn't be the first to try, Ellie Phimister," Deadpool says sweetly.  "But in exactly forty-six seconds, you're going to thank me when the future Mr. Warhead comes out to meet you."  
  
Not for the first time and probably not for the last, NTW wishes she weren't one of the good guys.  
  
  
  
000000000000000000  
  
  
  
**It's a Miracle**  
  
  
  
  
"Ohmigod!"  Peter stops short at the school doors when he sees Deadpool waiting at the gate in the spot where Bucky usually waits.  There's a girl with him and she looks furious.  He emits a squeak and backs up quickly.  
  
"What?" Mary Jane asks just as Tommy asks, "Who's _that_?"  
  
The students are crowding around Deadpool, taking pictures with him and giving him high fives while the girl next to him looks angry enough to melt steel with the pissed off look in her eyes.    
  
Before Peter can say a word, Dean Reynolds comes up behind them and curses loudly.  "Great.  Another nutjob coming here to fight with Spider-Man." Then he looks down at Peter and grimaces.  "Go to my office, Peter."  
  
"But --"  
  
"I'm not getting sued again if anything else happens to you," Dean Reynolds snaps. "You too, Miss Watson."  His eyes go wide.  "Where did Thomas go?"  
  
"Um..." Peter says because that's the safest thing he _can_ say.  "He's probably on his way to your office now.  And he's probably going to call Bu -- uh, Cousin James."  
  
Dean Reynolds glances at Deadpool and his throng of underage admirers.  "I wouldn't mind having Sergeant Ba -- uh, Reilly here myself.  Though I wouldn't complain if Spider-Man showed up."  
  
They look at each other and Peter is pretty sure the only one in the school who doesn't know he's Spidey and that his cousin is Bucky Barnes is Flash Thompson.  
  
"Miracles happen," Mary Jane says brightly.  She takes Peter's arm.  "C'mon, tiger.  Let's go look for Tommy."  
  
Dean Reynolds pulls out his cell phone.  "I'm going to call the police and hope for a miracle."  
  
And Peter?  He's going to make a miracle come true.

 

 

 


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

 

 

**Zing Went the Strings of My Heart**

 

 

While Peter flaps his gums with Dean Reynolds, Tommy goes into action. He's going to save the day before Petey-boy finishes changing into his Spidey suit. It takes Tommy a precious few seconds to run the eight blocks home, change out of his school clothes and into his costume and come back but he knows it's going to save him a scolding from Bucky about being careful with his secret identity later. Besides, judging from the preening and posing for Facebook and Tumblr posts that Deadpool doofus is doing with the even bigger morons from school, Tommy's little detour didn't matter.

Deadpool is about to hand a big, shiny gun to some girl so they can pose together.

Tommy wishes he didn't believe people could be that stupid.

He plows through the crowd, knocking his school mates on their asses and sending cell phones flying before disarming the girl and then slamming full force into Deadpool. Full force is somewhere around Mach Two.

There's a sickening sound as Tommy's hands meet Deadpool's chest and it takes him a beat to realize that the sound is ribs cracking and maybe even worse things happening to Deadpool's insides.

And then Deadpool is airborne. He's thrown backwards for over two blocks where he crash lands onto the roof of a Volvo, crushing the roof completely with the impact. The angles of Deadpool's legs are just _wrong_  and his head might be turned a little too far to one side.

This, Tommy thinks with growing horror, is exactly what Bucky meant when he said Tommy needed to learn to pull his punches. "I-I k-killed him..."

"Nothing kills him."

Tommy turns to see the goth girl who was with Deadpool. "Huh?"

"Dude's got a healing factor." She shrugs like it's no big deal. "I saw him slice his own hand off once."

"B-but he has both hands!" Tommy protests.

"Yeah."

"Is he a mutant?"

"No. Are you?"

"Uh, yeah."

"Me, too."

The conversation stalls and Tommy tears his eyes from Deadpool's limp body to look at the girl.

She stares back at him with a bored expression, like she sees weird shit like this every day. "Negasonic Teenage Warhead."

"What? Where?" Tommy whips his head around looking for the weapon but he doesn't see anything that looks remotely like a warhead.

"Me," she says and rolls her eyes to indicate that he's slow on the uptake. "That's my name."

"Oh."

As she stares at him like he's the biggest moron on the planet and it dawns on him that she's waiting for him to tell her _his_  name.

"Speed. I-I'm Speed."

There's a loud groan from Deadpool but no movement.

Negasonic Teenage Warhead raises an eyebrow at Tommy. "See? He's fine."

Out of the corner of his eye, Tommy sees Petey leaping from the roof of the school onto the roof of a nearby house and then onto the side of an apartment building. Petey, Tommy realizes, is going to pretend he's coming from somewhere _other_  than Midtown High. He turns back to Negasonic Teenage Warhead and realizes the silence between them has gone on for an awkwardly long time. "Uh..."

"Yeah?"

"Fries?"

"Where?"

Tommy pulls a face. "Mall."

The face NTW makes puts Tommy's to shame. "I hate malls."

"This is Queens. That's all we have."

"Yeah? You should see Westchester. It's even lamer."

"Westchester?" Tommy echoes. "You're an X-Man?"

She shrugs.

He stops himself from gushing or saying anything too stupid. But barely. This girl is smoking hot and she's a freaking X-Man. Not to mention she's got the coolest name like _ever_. "So. Fries?"

"Fine."

"We can make fun of all the douche canoes shopping at J. Crew," Tommy offers.

"I said, fine." She rolls her eyes at him again.

"If you let me carry you, we can be there in a second." And because he wants to show off, he adds, "Ever break the sound barrier?"

"Every fucking day." With that, she leaps up and wraps her legs and arms around him. "Well? Go, dumbass."

Tommy doesn't need to be told twice.

 

 

  
00000000000000

 

 

**The Spectacular Headache**

 

 

Peter arrives on the scene just in time to watch Tommy and the goth girl take off for God know's where. He was on the roof of the school when he saw Tommy hit Deadpool and knock all those students on their behinds. A few of them landed the wrong way and Peter sees there are some sprained wrists and ankles and maybe even a couple of broken wrists and fingers. Bucky, Peter is sure, won't be happy when he hears about this. He probably won't mind too much about what Tommy did to Deadpool though.

Deadpool groans again. "Spidey-boy! Is that you?"

"Yeah, it's me." Peter leans over him and tries not to be sick as he watches Deadpool's body heal itself. "You need any help?"

"I could use some Advil. Or some tequila. Or both." With another groan, Deadpool sits up. "I'd ask what hit me but I saw him and he ran off with the girl of your dreams."

"What?!"

"That's why I'm here, baby boy." Deadpool reaches out and pats Peter on the head with a hand that's at an angle that is definitely _wrong_. "I found the perfect girl for you."

"But --"

"You don't have to thank me." He sits up and there's a crack as his wrist snaps back into place followed by more snapping and squelching. "The girl's a real firecracker, Spidey. And I mean that. She explodes."

"What?!"

"And she's an X-Man."

"But --"

"And her name, Pe---"

"Ixnay!"

Deadpool blows out a frustrated breath. "You're so touchy about the secret identity thing. Sheesh!"

"Because you're in front of my school!" Peter exclaims, flapping his arms in frustration. "You couldn't have e-mailed me or something?"

"Well, I would have if you'd given me your e-mail address but you didn't, did you?" Deadpool sniffs. "And you specifically said not to visit you at your home. So what was I supposed to do? Stalk you like some creepy McCreeperson? We both know I'm too cool to do that. Also, my trench coat is at the dry cleaners. So this was it and here I am, a broken and disappointed man because my good deed that I meticulously planned just for you is completely unappreciated."

Peter groans and buries his face in his hand.

"You're wound way too tight, my little spandex-clad Spider-monkey. When was the last time you got laid?"

That makes Peter's head snap up and he's grateful that his mask is hiding his fierce blush. "I'm _fifteen_!"

"If you play your cards right, this chick will blow your mind in more ways than one," Deadpool says, draping an arm around Peter's shoulders. "With a name like Negasonic Teenage Warhead, you know she's going to be wild in the sack. Once you get past all that teenage angst and apathy, that is."

"I'm fifteen," Peter repeats emphatically. "And I have a girlfriend who's going to go off like a _nuclear_  warhead if she finds out you were trying to set me up!" He hears sirens approaching and he sees Mary Jane filming them for the school newscast. "See the girl with the camera? That's her."

Deadpool turns to look and something in his neck cracks loudly. "That's her? Wow, she's a prime piece of jailbait."

Peter isn't sure whether to sock Deadpool for the comment or cry.

"Shit. I really thought you were a virgin. I mean, you're squeamish about me even saying the word 'sex'. See?" Deadpool points at him. "Look at you cringe! Sex! Sex! Sexsexsex!"

"Shut up! You're near a school!"

"Are you telling me Winnie hasn't watched a few pornos with you?"

"Ugh..."

"C'mon. I'll take you. I know a great place where the floors aren't too sticky."

"Yuck! No!"

"You'll love it, Spidey-baby --"

"No!" Forget Mary Jane. If _Bucky_  heard this conversation, he'd cut off Deadpool's head and maybe a few other choice body parts. "No pornos and no to Negawhatever Freaky Warhead!"

"Well, duh," Deadpool says. "She ran off with some Billy Idol wanna-be. He must've gotten tired of dancing with himself if you know what I mean. Wink wink."

The sirens are getting much closer and much louder. Peter thinks fast. "Well, since I have a girlfriend and since Negawhoozit Thingamabob found a guy she likes better, I'd say your work here is done, right?"

Deadpool cocks his head to the side and thinks it over. "You're right. Want to go get a beer?"

"Bucky doesn't like it if I drink without him," Peter lies. He hates lying but sometimes that's the only way to get Deadpool off of a topic. "We don't want to make him angry, do we?"

"Well, I'm going to get a beer or ten and if you change your mind, _this_  is _my_  cell phone number since some of us are too _private_  to share theirs." He pulls a red and black business card out of one of the pouches on his belt and shoves it into Peter's hand. "I have to go drown my sorrows, Spidey. I was dreaming of walking Negasonic Teenage Warhead down the aisle in her black lace wedding dress to the Addams Family theme song and babysitting your little explosive spider-babies. Maybe you'd have even named one of the little monsters after me. But no. You already _have_  a girlfriend and Negasonic Teenage Warhead turned out to be a floozy. Why am I such a romantic? Why?!"

And with that, Deadpool teleports.

Peter blows out a relieved sigh and high tails it just as the police arrive.

Then he calls Bucky.

 

 

  
0000000000000000000

 

 

**AKA Father Knows Nothing**

 

 

We're putting the finishing touches on our plan to break into the ATCU facility in Jersey for the second time when Barnes' phone beeps. He stops mid-sentence, pulls it out of his pocket and a look of worry crosses his face.

"Excuse me," Barnes says, ducking into my bedroom and shutting the door.

Trish looks at me and mouths, 'What?'

I shrug but I know there's only one thing that can worry Barnes like that. Peter Parker, aka Spider-Man.

Even though Barnes attempted to get some privacy, it turns out we get to overhear more of the conversation than we wanted because Barnes' gets loud and he also gets so wound up that he forgets there's a gaping hole in the wall. We hear him say 'Petey' a few times, then 'Tommy', followed by 'Deadpool' and then the word 'warhead.' Through the hole, we watch Barnes pace and clench his metal fist in frustration. He's so agitated that we can easily hear the metal plates on his arm clicking, whirring and snapping into place.

Trish grabs the notepad we've been scrawling and sketching on and quickly jots, 'Is he talking to Spidey?'

I nod and write under that, 'They live together. Barnes is his daddy.'

Instead of being horrified like a normal person, Trish makes the same face people make when they're looking at puppies and babies. Like she finds the idea of Barnes being Peter Parker's father figure adorable or something.

While Trish communes with her hormones and her ovaries, I'm listening to Barnes end his conversation and then start one with someone else. I don't have to guess too hard because Barnes' voice quickly rises.

"Handle it, Stevie! He's your kid too."

Trish's eyes go wide.

I shake my head and mouth 'not gay' at her.

Barnes emerges from my bedroom and scowls so hard at the phone in his hand that for a second I think he might pull out a gun and shoot it.

I know better than to ask what his problem is. Mostly because I already know. It's the Ol' Parker Luck and maybe even HYDRA because with Barnes, sooner or later, HYDRA is _always_  involved.

Trish is also someone who asks people questions for a living. Usually, those people aren't the former Fist of HYDRA or the assorted dirtbags and lowlifes I come across in my line of work so her sense of self-preservation isn't as finely honed as mine. "Is Spider-Man okay?"

Barnes' head whips up so fast that Trish gasps and backs up in her seat. His gaze ticks from her face to the hole in the wall and then back to Trish again. He stares hard at her while he considers how badly he just fucked up with Petey's secret identity. "Shit."

"I won't tell anyone," Trish assures him. "I've kept Jessica's secret all this time."

"She has," I agree.

He eyes us both and then challenges Trish, "What was Jones' superhero name? The one she never used."

Trish is a lot better under pressure than I gave her credit for because she eyes him coolly. "Jewel.  I'm the one who came up with it. I also designed her costume, which she never wore."

"Was it pink?"

"It was white with turquoise trim and it had matching turquoise gloves," Trish says, waxing nostalgic to Barnes' growing amusement. "And there was a little purple gem on the belt. It would have matched her wig --"

"Wig?" Barnes echoes. He looks at me and smirks.

I flip him off. "And you wonder why I wouldn't wear the fucking thing, right? Look at him! He can't even keep a straight face when you describe it!"

"It's very super-hero-y," Trish insists.

That's when I realize she's talking about the monstrosity in the present tense. "Tell me you burned it like I told you to."

Trish huffs out a frustrated breath. "It cost a lot of money, Jessica, and now that you're spending time with the Avengers, maybe it's not a bad idea to --"

"It's a fucking terrible idea!"  
  
"Aw, c'mon Jones," Barnes smirks. "Don't be like that. We could patrol the city together and I could be your sidekick. Jewel and the Winter Soldier ---"

"Fuck you, Barnes!"

He taps his left shoulder. "We could put a big shiny purple gem right there so I could match you and maybe I could carry purple and turquoise guns --"

"You are _such_  an asshole!"

He snorts with laughter and when he finally comes up for air, he grins at Trish. "Thanks, doll. I needed that."

Since he's had his fun at my expense, I decide it's my turn. "So what did Petey do now?"

"I'm still not sure because the kid was going a mile a minute," Barnes says, sobering. "He said Deadpool showed up at his school to give him a negasonic warhead and that Tommy took off with it."

"Deadpool?" Trish is gaping at him now. "As in that guy who blew up a half dozen cars and massacred all those men on the Brooklyn Queens Expressway a few months ago?"

"What the hell is a negasonic warhead?" I ask.

Barnes shrugs. "I have no fuckin' idea but where Deadpool is concerned, normal goes out the fuckin' window. Anyway, I told Stevie to deal with it."

"Why aren't _you_  dealing with it? Isn't Tommy your other kid?"

"I told Stevie to deal with it," Barnes says, "because by the time I get to Queens on the goddamn subway, the place could be leveled. Wanda can teleport the Avengers there, disarm the thing or turn it into a shrub or whatever. What am I gonna do? I have no idea what the fuck a negasonic warhead is or what it does."

"Jessica could fly you there," Trish offers.

"Trish, no --"

"And don't you have that JARVIS thing to do the research on how to disarm it?"

"Trish!"

"See?" She turns to me and even though she's deadly serious, Barnes is smirking behind her. "A superhero costume would come in handy right now, wouldn't it?"

I realize with growing horror that I've been tag-teamed.

And worse, I'm going to fucking Queens.

Again.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Special shout-out to Bookwormgal and her "explosive spider-babies" comment on Chapter 4. Thanks for the inspiration!!!


	6. Chapter 6

  
  
  
  
**Assembled, Bothered and Bewildered**  
  
  
  
  
Tony ambles into the conference room yawning and blinking sleepily.  His hair is sticking up wildly and his clothes look like he's been wearing them for a few days.  "What's the emergency?"  
  
"Tommy's got possession of a negasonic warhead.  We need to know everything about what it does and how to disarm it," Steve tells him.  He watches as Tony looks around the conference room, taking in the grim expressions on the faces of Wanda, Pietro and Sam.  
  
And then Tony bursts into laughter.  "Cap, enough already with the preparedness drills.  Some of us need our sleep.  It's what?  Four in the afternoon?"  
  
"I'm serious, Tony."  
  
"Jesus, you are, aren't you?"  Tony runs a hand through his hair, making it even wilder.  "You know I know everything there is to know about weapons, right?  And I've _never_ heard of negasonic warheads.  In fact, I don't think 'negasonic' is even a word.  Is it, JARVIS?"  
  
"It is not, sir," JARVIS says.  
  
"Are you sure you whoever told you this wasn't screwing with you, Steve?" Tony asks.  
  
Steve's hands curl into fists at his side.  "Bucky told me and he can't lie."  
  
"Where did he get his information from?"  
  
"Peter."  
  
Tony grins.  "Have you ever heard Peter repeat an unfamiliar term?"  
  
Steve has.  Lots of times.  And Tony has a point.  "Look, whether it's negasonic or nuclear, the fact remains that Deadpool brought a warhead to Peter's school as a gift and Tommy ran off somewhere with it."  
  
"What is a Deadpool?" Wanda asks.  
  
"He calls himself the Merc with a Mouth," Sam says.  "You had a couple of run-ins with him recently, didn't you Steve?"  
  
"Not run-ins exactly."  It's Steve's turn to sigh and run a hand through his hair.  "He helped us out when HYDRA thought it was a good idea to clone Peter and then there was the fallout from Loki's spell during Halloween.  I don't think he meant any harm but he does seem to think it's okay to give Peter inappropriate gifts.  Up until now, they've just been guns.  I can't even fathom where Deadpool would get his hands on a warhead or why he thinks Peter needed one."  
  
"It's _Deadpool_ ," Tony says.  "Logic and Deadpool are two entirely different things.  The guy has a teleportation disk, for God's sake.  Those shouldn't even exist!  And I can't believe I'm saying this but if Deadpool brought Parker some kind of negasonic warhead, there's probably such a thing and it's dangerous as fuck."  
  
"Language!"  
  
"Really, Cap?  Really?  There's a warhead in _Queens_ that probably can end life as we know it and you're scolding me for dropping an F-bomb in front of a group of adults?"  
  
Steve hates not having a concrete strategy but he also doesn't mind flying by the seat of his pants when circumstances dictate.  This is a seat-of-the pants situation and everyone knows it.  "Ideas anyone?"  
  
"I can do a locator spell," Wanda offers.  She ducks her head shyly when all of the attention focuses on her.  "Tommy is my son.  Finding him is not difficult."  
  
"Okay, what else?"  
  
Everyone looks at each other.  
  
"We wing it?" Tony suggests.  
  
"Second winging it," Sam agrees.  
  
Pietro shrugs and Wanda nods in agreement.    
  
That's good enough for Steve.  "Everybody suit up.  JARVIS, keeps scanning for unusual energy signatures and ---"  
  
"Let's hope that the Ol' Parker Luck doesn't run true to form," Tony puts in.  
  
Steve decides not to point out that the Ol' Parker Luck is already running true to form.  
  
Why make things worse?  
  
  
  
  
000000000000000000000000  
  
  
  
**We Get it Poppin', We Be Out with the Chrome**  
  
  
  
"Well, genius," Jones says, setting them down none too gently or gracefully in Fort Totten Park.  "We're in fucking Queens.  Now what?"  
  
Barnes is at a loss.  He figured there'd be explosions or some other catastrophe to point them in the right direction by the time they got here.  Hell if he's going to admit _that_ to Jones though.  So even if he can barely lie thanks to fuckin' HYDRA, he can certainly avoid the topic altogether.  At least with less discomfort than outright lying, anyway.  "Why is it always 'fuckin' Queens' with you, Jones?  Didn't you grow up in Forest Hills?  Where's your hometown pride?"  
  
"It's in the same place your fucking plan is.  Up your ass!" Jones snaps.  She glares at him.  "You made me fly all the way out here -- in broad fucking daylight -- and you have no idea what to do next, do you?"  
  
He pulls out his phone and speed dials JARVIS.  "Any progress?"  
  
"I've been unable to locate any information about negasonic warheads," JARVIS informs him sadly.  "Neither have I been able to track Mr. Shepherd's whereabouts."  
  
"You didn't put a tracker in his super suit?" Jones asks.  
  
"I put 'em in his backpack, his sneakers, his jacket and his cell phone," Barnes explains.  "He's supposed to be lying low so I didn't bother putting one in his uniform."  
  
Jones rolls her eyes.  " _I'm_ supposed to be lying low and look what the fuck you just made me do!"    
  
"That's on you, Jones.  Trish spent perfectly good money so you could have a secret identity."  It's wrong, he knows, winding Jones up like this but unless something happens soon, their only other option is to circle over Queens and hope for a break.  "Besides, you'd look real cute in a purple wig."  
  
She flips him off with both hands.  "Asshole."  
  
Barnes' phone chimes with a message from JARVIS, saving him from having to think of a witty response to _that_ creative insult.  He looks down, reads the message and smiles.  "Stevie and the team just arrived at the Queens Center Mall.  C'mon, Jones.  Time to fly."  
  
"You did _not_ just say that to me."  
  
"Want me to say it again?"  
  
"I dare you to say it again."  
  
"Time to fly, Jewel," Barnes smirks.  "C'mon.  Chop fuckin' chop.  We can't let Stevie have all the fun."  
  
Jones glares at him.  "Why not?  Neither of us knows shit about negasonic warheads.  Hell, I don't know shit about warheads period.  Do you?"  
  
He shrugs.  "Maybe.  My memory's like fuckin' Swiss cheese, remember?"  
  
She scoops him up like she's about to carry him over the threshold on their wedding night.  "Fuckin' HYDRA."  
  
"Fuckin' HYDRA," Barnes agrees.  And if anyone could come up with a goddamned negasonic warhead, it's fuckin' HYDRA.  
  
He's sure of it.  
  
  
  
  
00000000000000000000  
  
  
  
**Hot Topic**  
  
  
  
  
The people who shop at J. Crew have nothing on the poseurs and wanna-bes that shop at Hot Topic, Tommy learns.  Up until today, he _liked_ Hot Topic.  Negasonic Teenage Warhead has opened his eyes.  Hot Topic _recycles_ ideas from shirts they find in thrift stores and then marks them up at insane amounts.  NTW cuts out the middleman by shopping in Goodwill and other thrift shops up in shitty Westchester.  Her motorcycle jacket cost her an insane forty bucks and already came with the big anarchy symbol on the back and honest-to-God vintage 1980s hardcore punk band patches sewn on it.    
  
They're on a bench, partially obscured by one of those god-awful potted mall plants where they can observe the people going in and out of Hot Topic and mock their purchases but they've long since stopped watching.    
  
Instead, they're making out.  
  
NTW has a tongue stud.  
  
Tommy is demonstrating exactly what fast fingers means.  
  
"Watch those hands, asshole, or I'll show you how I got my name," NTW warns, pulling back for second.  Then she dives back in.  
  
He has to admit, he'd kind of like to see why she calls herself 'Negasonic Teenage Warhead'.  Still, he's not complaining.  
  
Neither is NTW.  
  
This is the best first date he's had in like, ever.  
  
At least it is until a pair of hands yanks him off of NTW and Tommy finds himself staring at the hairiest man he's ever seen.  "Holy shit!"  
  
NTW groans and if the sight of the weirdo bothers her, she's hiding it well.  " _Now_ you show up?  Where were you when fucking Deadpool kidnapped me?"  
  
"Don't start with me, Ellie.  The traffic from Westchester was a real pain in my ass," Hairy Guy says.  He gives Tommy a shake but doesn't let him go.  "Who the hell is this?"  
  
"That's Speed," NTW spits, "And _my_ name isn't Ellie.  It's --"  
  
"Stupid," Hairy Guy cuts her off.  He glowers at Tommy through slitted eyes.  "And this guy is bad news.  He's Magneto's grandson."  
  
Tommy's mouth drops open.  "Y-you're an X-Man?"  
  
NTW rolls her eyes.  "That's Wolverine.  Where have you been?"  
  
"Juvie."  He says it before he even thinks about what he's saying.  Great.  Now she's really going to want nothing to do with him.  So, since he's already lost any chance he's got with her, he adds with as much nonchalance as he can muster, "I blew up my school."  
  
"No shit!"  NTW high-fives him.  "I dream about doing that but it's been done like three times already so it's kind of lost its shock value."  
  
"Bad fuckin' news," Wolverine repeats.  He wraps a hairy hand around NTW's upper arm.  "C'mon, Ellie."  
  
She rolls her eyes and lets Wolverine drag her towards the parking garage.  Just as they're about to go through the door and out of Tommy's life forever, she turns and smiles at him.  Then she mouths the magic words, 'I'll call you'.  
  
Tommy waits until she's out of sight and then he fist-pumps the air.  
  
His sense of euphoria lasts an entire two seconds because that's when the fucking Avengers show up to shit on his day.  
  
The Ol' Parker Luck.    
  
He should have known it would kick in sooner or later.  
  
  
  
0000000000000000  
  
  
  
**Conditions Normal**  
  
  
  
  
Steve wasn't sure where he was expecting to find Tommy but a crowded mall is not one of the places he'd have thought of.  He looks around, doing a quick visual sweep.  There's no sign of a warhead unless it's in the backpack at Tommy's side.  "Where is it, son?"  
  
Tommy is flushed and his lips are slightly swollen.  He's wearing a slightly goofy expression and a long-sleeved T-shirt that bears the crest for Slytherin.  His jeans still have a price tag attached to them and his sneakers look suspiciously new.  "Where's what?"  
  
"The warhead," Steve says.  He can address the topic of shoplifting later or better still, Bucky can address it.  After all, Steve's taking care of disarming a warhead, for crying out loud.  Bucky can't shirk _all_ the parental responsibilities.  
  
"On her way home."  
  
"What?"    
  
"J's not picking up any unusual readings except for Wanda," Tony says.  "And Falcon just spotted Jones and Bucky coming in fast."  
  
Steve looks around and winces at the crowd that's starting to form.  He motions for Wanda to set up a perimeter using her powers.  She nods and does something that immediately disperses the crowd.  Steve puts some steel into his voice.  "Tommy, we're not playing around.  Where's the warhead?"  
  
"I told you.  She's on her way home."  The goofy expression is gone now, replaced with all the sullenness the teen can muster.  
  
There's a loud crash from the parking garage and then Bucky bursts through the door, followed by Jones who's picking pieces of glass out of her hair.  
  
Sam follows them in and he's smirking.  "Lucky for you two that mall security car broke your fall, huh?"  
  
Jones flips him off without breaking her stride.  
  
"Where's the warhead?" Bucky demands grabbing Tommy by the shoulders and giving him a light shake.  "What the hell is wrong with you, bringing something that dangerous into a fucking mall?  What were you thinking?"  
  
Tommy stares up at Bucky and then over at Steve.  "I was thinking of asking her to go to that fucking dinner at Billy's house with me so I don't die of boredom."  
  
Bucky blinks.  "What?"  
  
"What?" Tommy counters defensively.  "I'm not allowed to date?"  
  
"Sure you can date but what the fuck does that have to do with a goddamned negasonic warhead?" Bucky demands.  He looks over to Steve for help but Steve is just as lost as Bucky.  
  
Steve shrugs and wishes Aunt May were here.  She'd know how to handle this.    
  
"What the fuck are you talking about?" Tommy asks peevishly.  
  
Bucky glares at him and at the obviously stolen outfit the boy is wearing.  "What the fuck are _you_ talking about?"  
  
"He's talking about the girl he's been making out with for the past two hours," Tony says.  "If there was a warhead, he didn't bring it here.  At least, I'm not finding it on the security footage."  
  
"For fuck's sake," Tommy groans and Steve suppresses the urge to scold him for his cussing.  "Her _name_ is Negasonic Teenage Warhead."  
  
"Her name is what?!" Steve echoes in disbelief even as he wonders what would possess _anyone_ to make out with someone calling herself any kind of warhead.  
  
"Negasonic Teenage Warhead," Tommy repeats.  "She's an X-Man."  His eyes narrow.  "I'm guessing Petey left that part out when he called you to rat on me."  
  
"And you want to know why I don't want a teenage superhero of my own," Sam says.  " _This_ is why, Steve."  
  
"They don't all have the Ol' Parker Luck," Steve shoots back.  
  
"Don't lie to me," Sam argues.  "We all know that shit is contagious."  
  
"I guess we'll go back since we've embarrassed ourselves enough for one day," Tony puts in.  "We can all sing the 'I told you so' chorus to Chicken Little Steve for the rest of the night."  
  
Bucky eyes Steve and he smirks.  That smirk doesn't bode good things.  "Feel like embarrassing yourself more, Stevie?  Remember how we used to double date?"  
  
"No," Jones protests quickly -- too quickly -- and that only confirms Steve's suspicions about Bucky's intentions.  
  
Despite himself and his reservations, Steve says, "Yes."  
  
"Yes, you remember or yes, you wanna embarrass yourself?" Bucky presses.  
  
"Yes," Steve repeats.  Besides, anything beats spending the rest of the night listening to Tony say 'I told you so' about Negasonic Teenage Warhead, whoever the hell she is.  He's already had his dose of the Ol' Parker Luck.  
  
It's bound to be smooth sailing after this, right?

 


	7. Chapter 7

  
Chapter 7

  
**Dinner with Deadpool**

 

  
Tommy is giving Peter the silent treatment. Peter thinks he probably should be glad about that since Tommy's usual conversations with him involve insults and snark but judging by the glare Tommy has been shooting in his direction, Peter has a feeling that the silence is just the calm before the proverbial storm. He's pretending to be focused on the giant plate of meatloaf in front of him but Peter is really focusing his enhanced senses on Tommy who can move so fast even Peter can't see him.

Aunt May is no fool. She's picked up on the tension and she's sticking to her guns about the two of them learning to get along which means she's not getting involved. Instead, she throws out a benign, "How was school today?"

Just as Peter is about to mumble 'fine', his spider sense tingles but it's not Tommy setting it off. It's Deadpool, materializing in his kitchen. "Wait!" he shouts at Tommy. "He's a friend. Kind of."

"Kind of?" Deadpool echoes with a disbelieving whine. "Kind of? After all we've been through together? Killing your freaky clones, wiping out all those HYDRA and AIM creeps, rescuing Nick mother-hugging Fury, for crying out loud and you say we're 'kind of' friends? Really?" The mercenary stands, fist on hips, head cocked to one side, the very image of indignation. "That's like being a little pregnant or sort of ugly. You either are or you're not. So which is it, my little webby pal?"

Peter glances at Aunt May, who's staring at Deadpool in stunned silence. He's guessing she's still trying to process the clone killing statement. "Um... Uh..."

"We are _besties,_ " Deadpool announces. "Blood brothers. Well, not _our_  blood but you know what I mean. Two of the three Musketeers. And speaking of, where's Winnie?"

"Out," Peter says quickly.

"He's missing meatloaf night?" Deadpool gasps in mock horror.

"Well, I --"

"More for me." With that, Deadpool drops into the chair at the kitchen table where Bucky usually sits and inhales deeply. "God, that smells good. C'mon, Petey. Fetch me a plate."

That snaps Aunt May out of her shock. Mercenaries might appear out of thin air but that's no excuse for bad manners in the Parker household. "You heard our guest, Peter. Set a place for him."

"But --"

" _Now_ , Peter."

Sighing, Peter does as he's told and even goes a step further, loading up a plate for Deadpool and setting it in front on him.

"Thanks, lil buddy!" Deadpool swats him sharply on the behind as Peter heads back to his seat. "Sorry," he says not sounding sorry at all. "I couldn't resist. You've got the cutest little butt."

Tommy snorts a laugh.

"Which brings us to you, irresistible Billy Idol-wanna-be." Deadpool points his fork at Tommy. "You ran off with Petey's future wife."

"I have a girlfriend --" Peter starts to protest.

"So you said and we're cool on that score." Deadpool waves him off with his other hand, his attention focused on Tommy. "This is between Billy and me."

"The name is Speed, Dorkpool," Tommy spits.

"Thomas!" Aunt May scolds him.

"Dorkpool, huh? Ooooh, that's a good one. How many meme generators did you use to come up with it?" Deadpool shoots back and then leans towards Tommy. "Look, Speedbump, you're the one who made this personal. I was trying to do a solid for my girl, Negasonic Teenage Warhead by hooking her up with Petey and his super-cute tush. And what did you do?   _You_  went and stuck your pert little nose where it didn't belong." He shakes his fork threateningly in Tommy's direction. "So I need to know, _Tommy_ , if you treated her right because if you didn't, you're in for a world of trouble. No, not just a world. A fucking universe. Negasonic Teenage Warhead may seem like she's all about the long sullen silences and mean comments but she's... Okay, fine. She's all about the long sullen silences and mean comments. But underneath all that carefully constructed apathy, snark, piercings and black lipstick, there's a girly girl who wants flowers, candy and pink fluffy shit. Are you the guy who's going to give her that?" He punctuates the question by throwing his fork in Tommy's direction. It misses Tommy's head by a fraction of an inch and hits the wall with such force that the tines are instantly embedded.

Tommy is staring at Deadpool, mouth hanging open. "Uh..."

"Where," Deadpool hisses, leaning closer so that his masked face is directly in front of Tommy's, "did you take her and what kind of time did you show her?"

"W-we went to the mall and had ch-cheese fries," Tommy stammers. "And then we m-made out."

"On the first date?"

"Uh --"

"They got _that_  right when they named you Speed." Deadpool vaults out of his seat and looms over Tommy. "What are your intentions?"

"What?"

"Was it a one-time thing or do you like her?"

"I-I like her?"

"That sounded like a question, Tommy. Remember what I said about being a little pregnant or a little ugly." With that, he lifts the mask off of his face while strategically keeping his back to Aunt May. Tommy pales and recoils in his chair. "See what I mean? It's an absolute. Now, answer my question."

"I-I like her," Tommy says. "I-I was thinking of taking her to th-this dinner thing..."

"Perfect." Deadpool lowers his mask into place, digs into one of the pouches on his belt and takes out an obscene amount of hundred dollar bills, dumping them on Tommy's plate of meatloaf. "Take her to the dinner thing. Take her to a lot of dinner things. And if I find out you cheated on her or made her cry or any other bullshit, Tommy, we'll find out if you're faster than me and a fucking laser gun. Got me?"

"Uh..."

"Great." He slaps Tommy on the back and settles back into his chair. "Come on. Eat up before the meatloaf gets cold. Petey-pie, would you be a sweetheart and get me another fork? Mine's busy making a not-so-subtle point in the wall."

"Mister Deadpool." Aunt May has finally recovered the power of speech. "We do not use that kind of language in this house, nor do we throw silverware or threaten harmless teenagers--"

"Harmless?" Deadpool echoes. "That little asshole hit me so hard I flew _three fucking blocks_ and landed on a goddamned _Volvo_. And yes, Mrs. Parker, I'm cussing on purpose. Better Peter learns his foul language from family than from strangers, don't you think?"

"Absolutely not." Aunt May turns to Tommy. "Is any of what he's saying true?"

"What do you mean, is it true?" Deadpool is back on his feet, fists on hips again. "I had two broken arms, a broken leg, six broken fingers, five busted ribs, a ruptured spleen and a fractured skull. And that's at a minimum. It was like being hit by a Patriot missile and believe me, I've been hit by 'em before."

"He's got a healing factor," Peter mumbles.

"I've got _the_ healing factor, Spidey-baby," Deadpool sniffs and then spreads his hands wide in what looks like an attempt to appeal to Aunt May's better nature. "Tommy there attacked me for no good reason."

"You showed up at our school!" Tommy protests.

"Since I'm not a convicted sex offender, I fail to see your point, Tommy-boy. And besides, what criminal activity was I engaged in? Illegal autograph signing? Underage Tumblr and Facebook posts?"

"I-I..." Tommy looks helplessly at Peter. "He's a bad guy."

Deadpool huffs a breath. "I am not! I'm an Avenger. Almost."

"I was just going to talk to him and find out what he wanted," Peter shrugs at Tommy. "You're the one who hit first."

"And _you're_  the one who ratted me out to Bucky," Tommy shoots back.

"I didn't rat you out," Peter shoots back. "I told Bucky what happened because if he found out from anybody else, he'd have gone ballistic."

"He _did_  go ballistic, moron! He showed up with Jones and all of the friggin' Avengers!"

"Oh, Petey," Deadpool clucks. "Nobody likes a snitch."

"I'm not!" Peter argues.

Deadpool shakes his head sadly. "You are, Peter-Spider-Man-Parker. You're a snitch and even worse, you're a kiss-ass who ratted out your own evil twin so you could score brownie points with your not-daddy the Winter Soldier. I'm so disappointed in you that I've lost my appetite and that really sucks because I fucking love meatloaf."

With that, Deadpool shimmers, fragments and vanishes.

Aunt May drops into her chair and heaves a sigh. "So, Peter, what other friends haven't you told me about?"

 

0000000000000000000000000

 

**Feels Like Old Times**

 

  
"Ready to meet your date for the night, Stevie?" Barnes asks, bodily blocking the door to Jones' place. The goofy grin that flits across Steve's face tells Barnes he must have done or said something the old Bucky did. Truth be told, Barnes doesn't remember double-dating with Steve except for their last one, where Stevie ditched him to try to enlist on Barnes' last night before shipping out to the 107th. He doesn't remember the name of either girl or what they did that night.

Before Stevie can answer, Jones blows out a frustrated breath. "This isn't a date, you asshole! Dates are stupid shit, like fucking bowling, not breaking into secret government detention centers."

"Jones, you'd _never_  go fucking bowling."

"Just because I've never gone with you --"

"Oh, it's _my_  fault?" Barnes drops to one knee in front of her. "Jessica Jones, will you go fucking bowling with me?"

She flips him off and reaches around him to open her door.

"I've taken you on way better dates than fucking bowling, Jones," he persists.

"Dates? You call getting me blown up by fucking HYDRA a fucking _date_?!" Jones winces and realizes her mistake but it's too late. "We are _not_  dating, Barnes."

"Sure we are, Jones." Barnes appeals to Trish, who's standing there and smirking at Jones. "Ain't that right, Trish?"

Trish throws up her hands and shakes her head. "Not getting involved."

"Aw, c'mon, sweetheart," Barnes wheedles. "I went and brought you a date for tonight. He's a real nice guy. Very polite, perfect manners and a real gentleman."

"Is that what you used to tell girls about me?" Steve asks, walking in behind Jones. "That I had perfect manners?"

Trish's mouth drops open into an 'O' of surprise when she sees who her 'date' is.

Barnes shrugs, rather than admit to Steve that he doesn't remember their double dates.

"Hi, I'm Steve, the guy with the perfect manners." Stevie extends a hand in Trish's direction. "I know who you are, Ms. Walker. I never miss your shows and if I do, I listen to the podcasts. You've introduced me to some of my favorite modern authors and musicians."

It takes almost thirty seconds for Trish to recover her power of speech. Then she blurts, "Let me interview you."

Stevie blinks and then shakes his head. "I'd rather not talk about how difficult it's been to wake up seventy years in the future or what it's like to fight alien armies --"

"Then talk about your relationship with Spider-Man."

"Excuse me?"

"Show us the human side of Captain America," Trish goes on. "The side that's teaching Spider-Man how to use his powers responsibly."

Steve's posture stiffens. "Spider-Man knows more about responsibility than most adults I've met in either century, Ms. Walker. What he doesn't know is how to fight like me and use strategy which is what I'm teaching him."

"He didn't know how to throw a punch when Stevie met him," Barnes puts in, trying to defuse the tension. "And Stevie'd never heard of Harry Potter."

"And what are you teaching him?" Trish asks.

Barnes takes a second to formulate his answer. "What I'm teaching him ain't important," he says finally. " _He's_  teaching me how to be a person again."

"You know how much I hate the word 'adorable'," Jones adds, "But that's the word that describes these two assholes when they're with the kid. Picture the Winter fucking Soldier nagging Spider-Man about eating properly and getting enough sleep. And God help the kid if he gets even a scratch on him."

Steve deflates a bit at that. "Sorry if I bit your head off, Ms. Walker. Like Bucky, I'm rather protective of Spidey."

"I'm sorry for coming at you so hard," Trish says. "And please, call me Trish."

"Trish knows his name is Petey," Barnes admits.

"That's because Barnes fucked up. Again." Jones smirks at him. "His secret's safe with Trish. She's kept mine since we were kids together." She jerks a thumb towards the hole Barnes put in her wall. "That's another one of his fuckups."

" _Only_  that one," Barnes sniffs. "The rest are from some asshole who was doped up on combat enhancers."

That raises Stevie's protective hackles, just like Barnes knew it would. "You could have called us for help, Jessica."

"I handled it without your goddamn help."

" _I_  handled it," Trish counters testily. "You were still hurt after being hit by that car which you wouldn't have been if you'd gone home and gotten some sleep like I told you to do instead of looking for more morgues."

"Morgues?" Steve echoes weakly.

Barnes grins at him. "Double dating's a lot more fun now, don'cha think, Stevie?"

It doesn't surprise him at all when Steve flips him off.

 

 

 


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

 

**AKA Breaking, Entering and Bitching**

 

After two hours of staking out the ATCU detention facility to time security patrols and disable security and surveillance devices, our B&E party hits a wall. Literally. Lots of the fucking things.

Thick steel-framed concrete walls have been freshly built over the elevators and staircases, leaving no way to access the lower levels where the maximum security cell blocks and labs were. Exploring the upper two levels is pointless because I've already done a flyover and found the floors ripped up, exposing sliced coaxial cables on the upper level administrative floor. Everything up there was gutted and stripped. Not even a paper clip was left behind. The ground level cell blocks are empty and fresh paint covers their walls. It's impossible to tell whether any of the cells were ever occupied.

"Fuck!" Barnes explodes and, in a move worthy of me, punches the concrete wall, which is how we find out they're steel-framed. There's a loud 'crack' of the concrete exploding, followed by an even louder 'clang' and Barnes repeats the epithet.

It goes without saying that we don't have time to tear down any of the walls and it's more than likely that there are more walls erected between here and the lower levels to slow progress or stop it altogether.

"Whatever's still down there is impractical or impossible to move," I say, stating the obvious, just in case it's not obvious to anyone else. Then I add, "Anyone else think it's interesting that they just didn't demolish the building? Like maybe they might want to reopen this place eventually? I'm guessing that's because there aren't a lot of places to hold people with abilities and it's expensive to build them from scratch."

Everyone looks at me.

I roll my eyes because that's when I realize that I'm the only who sees the big clue that's staring us all in the face. "Barnes, what do we do next?"

He looks at the wall again. "When I was coming out of all the shit HYDRA did to me, I tore apart their bases. A few of 'em were abandoned and they were walled off like this --"

"Does HYDRA operate construction companies?" I cut him off in the vain hope of steering him off of fucking HYDRA for once and onto the bigger picture.

"They might be operated by sleeper cells or sympathizers," Stevie says and I can tell he's caught on. "But if that's not the case..."

"They hired someone local to put this up," Barnes finishes and I can tell he's kicking himself for not figuring that out on his own.

"So what do we do next, Barnes?" I ask again.

Barnes' eyes narrow in thought as he says, "There are security cameras at the office park across Route 22 and traffic cameras. We can pull the footage and look for construction vehicles so we don't run through the damn phone book."

Since I generally don't have access to security cameras and traffic cameras unless I 'borrow' Stark's AI, I'd have worked my way through the damn phone book. Barnes' method is a lot faster because he has no qualms about using JARVIS. I decide to not to make him work for the rest. "We can assume the ATCU paid extra -- a lot extra -- to get the work done immediately and up to their specs. That's the angle we use when we chase the lead. We claim we're with the government General Accounting Office and we're auditing the ridiculously high expenditure. Nobody wants that kind of heat so they'll tell us everything."

"Or we break and enter and take what we need," Stevie suggests. "JARVIS is researching the footage now."

"Fine with me," I tell him, paying absolutely no attention to the scandalized expression on Trish's face at the idea of the squeaky clean national icon not giving a shit about search warrants or due process.

Stevie grins at me. "You'll say anything to not have to come back to New Jersey."

"You bet your ass, Stevie. Have you seen these roads? There are potholes the size of fucking Cleveland and don't get me started on the damn traffic."

"But you don't have to drive," Barnes chimes in and he's calmed down enough to bust my ass. "You _fly_  Jones. And let's face it, you need all the practice you can get because you still can't land for shit."

Naturally, that sets Trish off. "See? I've been telling you that you need to practice, Jessica and now you have super-powered friends to practice with."

"I've offered to practice with her," Stevie says with a nauseatingly earnest expression that I know is completely fake. "Buck has, too." And then he pulls a sad puppy dog face. "We could really use someone with Jessica's skills on the team."

Of course that statement has exactly the effect Stevie intended because Trish's jaw sets with determination. "That's it! You're trying on that prototype costume, Jessica!"

"No fucking way, Trish!" I protest. "We've been over this --"

"You don't have to wear the wig," she attempts to placate me.

"Maybe you'd like me to wear that stupid fucking mask so bad guys can blindfold me!"

"Captain America wears a mask!"

"Actually, it's a cowl," Stevie says quietly.

"You'd have cowl hair," Barnes smirks. "Not a good idea, Jones."

I flip them both off. "Trish, no --"

"Maybe you want to wear your hoagie costume," Trish shoots back. "Hey Bucky, did Jessica tell you how she saved a little girl when she was dressed like a ---"

"Are you out of your fucking mind, telling him that?!" I clap a hand over her mouth but it's too late. Barnes has heard enough and he's doubled over, snorting with laughter. "Fuck..."

Trish twists away from me and even she's laughing. "That's right, Bucky, she was dressed like a giant hoagie. Handing out coupons."

"They were _flyers_ ," I sniff but it's too late. I have absolutely no fucking dignity left. "The hoagies were two for one all day."

"You hear that, Stevie," Barnes snickers. "Jones was a super _hero_." He turns to me. "The purple wig looks pretty good compared to a fucking hoagie roll, huh, Jones?"

"I'll make you eat that fucking wig if you mention it again, Barnes," I snap.

"Sorry to interrupt your romantic interlude," Stevie says, "But JARVIS has the name and address of the construction company." He doesn't look happy when he adds, "It's owned by Frank Shepherd. Tommy's father."

The growl Barnes lets loose makes the hair on the back of my neck stand up.

I smack his arm because I know he's not thinking straight and he's not thinking of all the angles like I am. "Calm the fuck down, Barnes!"

"Oh, I'm calm, Jones. I'm very fucking calm." The smile he sends my way doesn't bode well for Tommy's dad. "We ain't been in an explosion all night, Jones and I don't want you saying I don't know how to show my best girl a good time when I take her out on the town in fuckin' Jersey."

"If you were fucking calm," I say slowly, "it might have occurred to you that maybe Frank Shepherd didn't have a fucking choice other than to scramble his crews and gather all the supplies --"

"He turned over his own kid!" Barnes thunders and he punches the wall again. The crater he leaves this time is a lot deeper. Barnes' chest is heaving and he's more agitated than I've ever seen him. "That piece of shit turned over a sixteen year old _kid_  to be tortured. Experimented on. And they broke him, Jones. They broke that kid and they started to turn him into their goddamned weapon! Their _asset_!"

"You saved him from that, Barnes." I ignore all common sense about self-preservation and come in close enough to feel his ragged breaths on my face. "And if you kill his father, Tommy's never going to forgive you, even if the man _is_  a piece of shit. You want to be a detective, Barnes? Get the facts. Build a case. If Frank Shepherd is dirty, we'll destroy him, maybe get him sent away for life where he can think about how he fucked up every day until he dies. Be a hero, Barnes. Don't let those assholes make you cross that line."

Barnes draws in a shuddering breath and then pulls me to him, resting his chin on the top of my head. I can feel the tension drain out of him and then he says quietly, "Thanks, Jones."

Neither of us miss Trish elbowing Stevie and the knowing looks they exchange.

"We're _friends_  goddammit," I protest. "Just friends."

"Of course you are," Trish agrees.

Stevie just smirks.

I don't even bother flipping them off.

Who's going to take a goddamn _hoagie_  seriously?

 

 

00000000000000000000

 

 

**Insomniacs Anonymous**

 

 

"You awake, nerd?" Tommy asks, dropping onto the end of Peter's bed with a bounce.

"I am now," Peter grumbles as he sits up to give Tommy more room.

Tommy snorts softly in the darkness and sprawls on Peter's bed, taking up the space Peter just vacated. "You were before too, you freakin' liar. I could hear you tossing and turning all the way down the hall in _my_  room."

Peter heaves a sigh and silently curses the day the Ol' Parker Luck decided to saddle him with a brother.

"I figured you were having trouble sleeping with Bucky gone, so I came to keep you company," Tommy announces.

" _You_  were having trouble sleeping and you figured you'd wake me up so _you'd_  have company," Peter corrects him.

"What kind of big brother would I be if I didn't check on you?"

"You'd be _Billy's_  brother, not mine, which is what you're supposed to be."

"I'm Bucky's kid now," Tommy declares. "And Aunt May's. Which makes me _your_  big brother."

Peter considers pointing out that he was Aunt May's and Bucky's kid first but it sounds like a mean thing to say, even in his head. Especially since he knows that Tommy's parents gave up custody of him and turned him over to the ATCU. "Are you going to try to get to know Billy?"

"Do you not get how weird that is?" Tommy counters. "I lost track of time, locked up like I was and the next thing I know, I've got a twin, a lady claiming to be my real mother and a space rock that's my dad. Aunt May is the first normal person to come my way since then." He flops onto his back and sighs dramatically. "She makes me feel... I dunno, safe, I guess."

"She does that for everybody," Peter agrees. "I was five when my parents died. Aunt May is pretty much the only mom I remember. She _is_  my mom." He reaches over to the bedside table where there's a framed picture of him with his aunt and uncle and he hands it to Tommy. "That's my Uncle Ben. He... He was killed by a burglar almost a year ago."

Tommy looks down at the picture. "Is that why you became Spider-Man?"

"Mostly." Peter exhales and closes his eyes. "I lost my father and then I lost Uncle Ben and then Bucky came along. And I know he's a super soldier with all kinds of training but --"

"But you're worried you might lose him too."

"Yeah."

"Yeah," Tommy echoes. He hands the picture back. "My parents divorced when I was ten and that was around the age when I realized my dad drank, like, a lot. And that my mom was screwing around on him." With a sigh, he props himself up on an elbow to look at Peter. "God, the guys she used to bring home..."

"Aunt May hasn't gone out with anyone since Uncle Ben...uh..."

"When would she have time? She's busy being everybody's mom." Tommy sighs again. "She's like one of those moms you see on TV. You know, the kind that make sure you do your homework and brush your teeth and shit. I never believed anybody could be like that for real." His eyes meet Peter's. "My own parents didn't want me and this lady I never met before took me in, no questions asked and calls me her son. And I know... I know I didn't make things easy on my folks after they split but they just...th-they..." Tommy sniffles and wipes at his nose with the back of his hand.

"They were scared," Peter says, pulling Tommy into a hug. "That's all."

"You don't know what it was like in that place, Pete." Tommy sniffles again. "They locked me up and left me in the dark for... I don't know. And they did things... Made me do things... And my parents _gave_  me to them!"

It's never occurred to Peter until now that _this_  is why Bucky wanted Tommy and why Aunt May has been letting him get away with murder. Tommy's been through a taste of what Bucky went through at HYDRA's hands. He hugs Tommy a little tighter. "You want to sleep here and keep me company 'til Bucky gets home?"

"Sure, little bro." Tommy twists out of Peter's grasp, grabs a pillow and leaves Peter with an inch of space to call his own. "I'll make sure the boogeyman doesn't get you."

"Forget the boogeyman," Peter tells him. Boogeyman.  He'll show Tommy what a boogeyman is.  "We have to worry about all the _real_  bad guys who know my secret identity coming to get me."

"What?!"

"There's a whole bunch of 'em out there and they hate my guts." Sure it's mean to give Tommy nightmares, Peter thinks, but this is what brothers do. Right? "Ever hear of the Green Goblin? He's the nuttiest nut in the nuthouse..."

 

 

 

 


	9. Chapter 9

  
Chapter 9  
  
  
  
**Deja Vu All Over Again**  
  
  
  
  
Tip-Top Construction is housed in a squat, single-story building with a large six bay garage behind it.  There is a backhoe, a cement mixer, and a forklift parked in front of the garage.  A chain-link fenced topped by barbed wire surrounds the business and a sign announces that Ace Security monitors the property through closed circuit cameras and patrols.  Compared to the security at the ATCU facility, it's laughable and almost a waste to use JARVIS to disable it.  
  
Steve vaults easily over the fence, followed by Bucky.    
  
Jones, on the other hand, snaps off the heavy padlock and opens the gate so that Trish can walk through.  "Not all of us are super soldiers," she reminds him.  
  
"Not all of us like to leave evidence of breaking and entering," Steve counters.  
  
"You need to get out more, Stevie."  She nudges past him and forces open the lock to the main office and groans when she looks inside.  "Jesus Christ.  Fucking file cabinets!  Who the hell still uses _paper_ for anything?"  
  
Steve points to the computers on the front desk and in the large office behind it.  "I'll have JARVIS start working on cracking the password."  
  
Jones goes to the front desk and begins lifting up various items until she raises the Rolodex triumphantly.  "No need to bother JARVIS, Stevie.  We've got the password."  She turns on the computer and starts typing.  "Oh, nice.  They use Quickbooks.  Barnes, get over here and I'll show you how to find a needle in a haystack without JARVIS."  
  
"You don't want to do that."  The voice comes from behind Steve and it's both familiar and impossible at once.  
  
A gun appears in Bucky's hand as he narrows his eyes at the person standing in the doorway.  
  
"You really don't want to do that, Sergeant Barnes."  
  
"Coulson?!"  Steve whips around and confirms that yes, Phil Coulson is alive and well and in New Jersey.  "But... I saw your body.  You were dead."  
  
The smile Coulson flashes is one that would do the Mona Lisa proud.  "Nick Fury doesn't accept death as an excuse for not showing up to work."  His eyes tick to Bucky.  "Sergeant Barnes, I'm going to have to insist that you lower your weapon."  
  
"I'll lower it after your backup shows themselves," Bucky says.  
  
"Agent May, Agent Johnson, come in and meet two living legends, a radio personality and...  I'm sorry, I don't know who you are," Coulson finishes, looking at Jones while two women file in slowly.    
  
"My name is Jewel," Jones chirps perkily.  "I'm a brand new superhero-in-training, isn't that right, Stevie?"  
  
"Really?" Coulson says, equally upbeat.  "And what can you do?"  
  
She smirks at him. "I can incinerate your insides with my laser eyes and pretty much fuck up your day."  
  
"Your file said you had a sense of humor, Ms. Jones," Coulson returns the smirk.  "I had no idea it was quite that sharp."  
  
Jones flips him off.  "Who _is_ this guy, Stevie?"  
  
"Phil Coulson," Steve says slowly.  "Formerly of SHIELD --"  
  
"Still with SHIELD," Coulson corrects him.  "In fact, I'm the head of it now.  We're just... not quite what we used to be though we've been busy."  
  
Bucky raises an eyebrow at Steve and then lowers his gun at Steve's nod.  
  
Steve folds his arms across his chest, conscious of the comforting weight of the shield strapped to his back.  "Busy doing what?"  
  
"I'm not ready to share those details with you yet, Captain," Coulson says.  "I'm going to reach into my jacket, Sergeant Barnes.  Just to pull out an envelope.  On three.  One.  Two.  Three."  With that, Coulson reaches into his jacket and produces a thick envelope that he holds out towards Steve.  "The ATCU is a front for HYDRA and we're working on taking it down.  I'd appreciate it if you'd let us finish the job, Captain.  The truth cost Rosalind Price her life and I owe it to her to see this through."  
  
Jones straightens beside Steve.  "You were the one having dinner with her the night she died."  
  
"I was," Coulson admits.  "You're very perceptive, Ms. Jones.  We should talk about a career with SHIELD sometime under more pleasant conditions."  
  
"Probably but I'm not great with doing things I should, like flossing and remembering to change the battery in the smoke detector so let's just skip that."  She smiles tightly at him.  
  
"She really isn't," Trish agrees.  "I don't think she even has a smoke detector."  
  
Jones snaps her fingers.  "Gotta get on my landlord about that."  
  
Steve considers telling Jones that Coulson put up with Stark and didn't crack but he decides to let her have her fun.  
  
"Sergeant Barnes," Coulson says, holding out the envelope towards him.  "If you'll agree to step back and let SHIELD handle this, I have an Order of Adoption for Thomas Shepherd in Mrs. Parker's name, along with all of the supporting paperwork.  Mrs. Parker will receive a monthly maintenance subsidy to help her care for him until he turns twenty-one.  I also have a flash drive containing a series of ATCU files from his time in custody detailing procedures conducted on him, tests that were run and more.  I can't guarantee they're the complete files but it's what we were able to recover."  
  
Bucky is so tense that he seems like he's carved out of marble.  He doesn't answer.  
  
"Frank Shepherd is my informant," Coulson goes on.  "I can't let you come after him."  
  
Jones reaches out and pats Bucky's arm as she steps towards the documents in Coulson's outstretched hand.  "We need to know if the Shepherds willingly handed over their son or if they were coerced.  The _kid_ needs to know.  Tell us that and you have a deal, right, Barnes?"  
  
There's a long pause in which Bucky looks to Steve for confirmation that it's the right thing to do.  Steve is still trying to process how Coulson is _alive_.  Trusting anything the man says is the next obstacle for his mind to deal with.  There really isn't much choice, not unless they want to add Coulson to their growing list of enemies.  He gives Bucky the barest of nods.  
  
"Fine," Bucky relents but the look he sends Steve's way says they'll be talking about this in detail later.    
  
"The Shepherds were coerced," Coulson admits, "And that's all I can tell you."  
  
Jones snatches the envelope from his hand and gives it to Bucky.  "Look inside and make sure it has everything he says it does."  
  
"And I'll be careful, just in case the contents are drugged," Bucky adds.  He opens the envelope  and peers inside.  "We have a deal, Coulson, but if it turns out these papers are fake or that flash drive is blank, I'm coming for Shepherd first and then I'll be coming for you."  
  
The two women with Coulson tense at the threat but Coulson just smiles pleasantly at Bucky.  "I'd expect no less from you, Sergeant Barnes.  It was an honor to meet you and to see you again, Captain."  
  
"Sorry I never got the chance to sign your trading cards," Steve says.  
  
Coulson flashes a  regretful smile at him.  "If I ever track down a full set again..."    
  
"I know about IGH and Dr. Kozlov's experiments!" Jones shouts at his departing back.  
  
Coulson turns slowly, not giving anything away.  "I beg your pardon, Ms. Jones?"  
  
"I said I know about IGH." She bares her teeth in an approximation of a smile.  "What do _you_ know about them?"  
  
"I have no idea what you're talking about."  
  
"Bullshit," Jones snaps, taking a step forward.  
  
Agent May moves forward to intercept her.  "That's close enough."  
  
"You think you can stop me?"  
  
"I'm sure I can."  
  
"Stand down, Agent May," Coulson says.  He stares hard at Jones.  "I really don't know what IGH is but I'm thinking I should find out if it's that important to you, Ms. Jones."  
  
Her mouth twists wryly.  "Gee, maybe we should pool our resources."  
  
"Maybe we should."  With that, he walks out and calls over his shoulder.  "I'll be in touch, Ms. Jones."  
  
She flips him off but the only ones who see it are Agents May and Johnson.  Johnson shakes her head and May just rolls her eyes.  
  
"Well," Trish says to Steve.  "That went well.  Who feels like hitting a Starbucks on the way back?"  
  
  
  
000000000000000000000  
  
  
  
**Brand New Day**  
  
  
  
Barnes slips in through his bedroom window and carefully sets the envelope with the information about Tommy inside his bedside table.  He strips down and changes into the T-shirt and sweats he left on the end of his bed before padding barefoot down the hall to check on the sleeping occupants of the Parker household.  
  
Aunt May is sound asleep, one hand flung across the empty space beside her on the bed to reach for the husband who'll never be there again.  It takes willpower not to sneak into her room and press a kiss to her cheek.  He can wait a few hours for her to wake up for that.  
  
The next stop is Tommy's room.  Tommy's bed is a tangled mess of sheets, a sign of restless sleep and the nightmares that Barnes knows plague the boy.  He takes in the condition of the bed a fraction of second after he notices that the bed is empty.  Barnes rushes into the room, rooting through Tommy's closet.  His costume is in its hiding place and none of his clothes are missing.  There's no sign of forced entry.  
  
Barnes speeds down the hall to Petey's room and stops abruptly when he looks inside.  Petey is contorted and clinging to less than a quarter of the mattress while Tommy is sprawled out lazily, looking more peaceful than Barnes has ever seen him.  
  
With a grin, Barnes pulls out his Starkphone and snaps a series of pictures to commemorate the day peace was declared between the two Parker siblings.  
  
He's not thrilled with the idea of leaving the ATCU and Frank Shepherd alone, but if this is what he gets in exchange, Barnes will take it.  
  
   
  
  



	10. Chapter 10

  
Chapter 10

 

**Prelude to the Most Awkward Dinner...Ever**

 

  
"Thanks for coming to Zabar's with me to pick up the food."

Teddy grins at Billy as they both look at the pile of takeout platters on Mrs. Kaplan's kitchen counter, waiting to be reheated. "Your mom must be thankful she's got one of those double-decker ovens."

"I think it's the first time she's ever used both of them," Billy admits. "I don't think she realized how much super soldiers eat."

"You ready?"

"No." Billy leads the way to his bedroom where he drops face-down onto his bed, grabs the pillow and screams silently into it. He rolls over and props himself up on an elbow. "I mean, yeah, everyone sort of got along after a while but... Tommy doesn't even speak to me. I have to ask Peter how he's doing. Wanda e-mails me and it's like we don't know what to say to each other. The only one I speak to every day is Erik."

"And Captain America." Teddy points to the poster above Billy's bed. "I'll bet you talk to his poster every day. After all, he signed it with love and kisses."

Billy groans and buries his face in the pillow again. It's true. Steve signed all three posters in Billy's bedroom but the one above Billy's bed -- his favorite, of course, because it shows just how blue Steve's eyes are -- was signed with Xs and Os and a 'yours, Steve'. "I still can't believe he did that."

"He likes you enough to tease you about your crush on him." Teddy drops down onto the bed. "I think that's kind of cool."

"At least he's not creeped out by it."

"That's because he hasn't seen your collection of Captain America slash fanfiction."

"You swore never to mention that!" Billy protests. "And it's all old stuff anyway!"

Teddy reaches over and pins Billy lightly. "Old stuff that you still haven't deleted, have you?" He brushes Billy's nose with his. "You think he'd like the one about being deflowered by Thor? Or the one where Bucky's a skinny little teenager who has his first time with Steve?"

Billy can feel his cheeks start to flame. "Teddy..."

"You have a lot of ones about teenage Bucky and his first time with Steve, come to think of it," Teddy teases.

"I downloaded those before I met Bucky!" He knows Teddy is teasing. He knows it. But damn, it's embarrassing. Especially since he really _hasn't_  erased any of that fanfic from his hard drive. And worse, he's re-read a couple of his favorites lately.

"You're going to have to think of a creative way to keep my mouth shut."

Billy takes Teddy up on his challenge.

Hands are starting to travel into places they probably shouldn't with only a couple of hours before the guests start arriving.

Billy's mother raps on his bedroom door. "Boys, I need some help in the kitchen."

Teddy levers himself off of Billy and runs a hand through his hair in an attempt to put it back into place. He whispers, "She doesn't really, does she?"

"Of course not. She's _reheating_  a takeout Seder," Billy says. He runs his hand along his neck. "You gave me a hickey!"

Teddy flashes a roguish smile. "And now you can practice your glamours hiding it all night."

"You're an awful boyfriend."

"Terrible," Teddy agrees. "The worst. And you love me for it."

"I do." They kiss one more time and then go to 'help' Billy's mother.

 

  
00000000000000000000

 

**Sunrise, Sunset**

 

Steve arrives promptly at seven and then spends a minute in the lobby of Billy's building rethinking whether it's polite to show up exactly on time. It used to be that being prompt was simply good manners but now people never arrive on time for anything, despite wearing watches and carrying phones that have clocks, calendars and reminders. Another minute goes by and he presses the buzzer for the Kaplan apartment. He's buzzed in immediately and then spends another forty seconds waiting for the elevator.

Billy greets him at the door and judging from his first furious blush of the night, still hasn't gotten over his enormous crush yet. "Hi Ca -- uh, Steve."

The kid really needs to get over that crush, Steve decides, so he grabs Billy in a fierce hug and presses a kiss to Billy's cheek. "Happy Passover, Billy."

"Ha--huh...oy..." Billy stares up at him, dazed.

Teddy is standing behind Billy, biting his lips and trying desperately not to laugh.

"I brought some Kosher wine," Steve says, holding up the case he's carrying.

"Uh-huh..." Billy says, still dazed.

"He's probably going to be incoherent for a few more minutes," Teddy decides, taking the case of wine from Steve. "Jeff and Rebecca are getting the dining room ready for guests. There are some snacks in the living room. Maybe you'd like something to read while you wait, huh, Billy?"

That snaps Billy out of his daze and he blushes again. "No! I-I mean... Uh... Um..."

"We thought some of the guests might not know a lot about Passover," Teddy says, "so there are some pamphlets for you to read."

"You're a lousy boyfriend," Billy whispers. "Horrible."

Steve knows there's an inside joke between the two and it has to do with Billy's crush on him. At least Teddy finds it funny. He's had to deal with jealous boyfriends before, despite not having any interest in the person with the crush on him.

"Go have an awkward conversation with Steve while I put the wine in the fridge to chill," Teddy tells Billy. He turns to Steve. "Let me know if he manages to get out a word with two syllables."

Billy buries his face in his hand. "Ugh."

"So," Steve says quietly, putting his lips close to Billy's ear. "There's some Captain America fan fiction you don't want me to know about."

"I'm going to die of mortification before sundown," Billy groans.

"Guess it's slash then."

"Ugh."

"Peter never told you about the bluesies they did of me during the war, huh?" Steve drapes an arm around Billy's shoulder. "Tijuana bibles, they called 'em. Know what those are?"

"Uh... No..."

"They were little porno comics that you could hide in your jacket pocket. One of Bucky's favorite things to do to drive me up the wall was to get his mitts on every Captain America one he could whenever he could," Steve tells him. "The Howlies would take turns reading them out loud. Dugan did some of the best voices."

"Really?"

"And Natasha's shown me some of the more recent oeuvres gracing the Internet." Steve pats Billy on the head. "Don't worry, you'll figure in your own fan fiction when the public gets used to seeing you out there. Peter's already a popular subject but I'm guessing you know that too. Does he know you read slash about him?"

"Dude, you know my parents are in the next room!"

"And your mother the psychologist would think it's healthy for you to talk about --"

"You -- you're a jerk!"

"Billy! That's no way to talk to a guest!" Rebecca Kaplan walks into the living room, shaking a finger at her son. "I'm so sorry, Captain --"

"Steve, ma'am."

"Rebecca," she goes on. "We raised Billy to have much better manners than that. Billy, apologize to Steve."

Billy shoots a dirty look in Steve's direction. "Sorry, Steve."

Teddy comes up beside Billy and takes Billy's hand in his. "And that's just the first guest, Mrs. Kaplan. Billy's going to be a complete wreck by the time Wanda, Pietro and Magneto show up."

"Go take half a Valium," Rebecca instructs Billy. "I don't want you accidentally electrocuting the brisket or teleporting the gefilte fish somewhere."

"Mom!" But as if to make her point, blue-white energy crackles around his fingers. "Fine. I'll go take some Valium."

"Sounds like you've been adjusting to Billy's abilities," Steve comments as Billy and Teddy leave the room.

Rebecca nods. "The Xavier Institute has a great deal of helpful literature and I've been corresponding with Professor Xavier about the possibility of a writing a book for parents in exactly this situation. I don't know that Valium would be on Professor Xavier's list of methods of dealing with mutant anxiety attacks but Billy's always been rather high strung."

"You've met his friend Peter, haven't you?"

"They could be twins. It's a wonder they don't work themselves into full blown panic attacks every time they're together," she laughs. "I had no idea Peter was Spider-Man. In fact, I still have trouble wrapping my mind around that."

"It's a sacred trust, knowing that information," Steve tells her. "He's made a number of enemies who'd hurt his family just to get at him."

"His family," Rebecca repeats. "Billy's twin who lives with Peter and his aunt."

"And Bucky."

"And Bucky Barnes," she echoes. "Excuse me. I think I'm going to have a Valium, too."

Steve grins and settles onto the living room sofa. He has a feeling his first Passover Seder is going to be a memorable one.

 

 

00000000000000000

 

 

 **Not Quite the Last of the Guests to Arrive**  

 

 

"Oh," Aunt May breathes, as they walk into the Kaplan's apartment. "They have a classic six."

"Actually," Peter corrects her. "It's a classic seven."

Classic sixes and sevens are the unicorns of New York City apartments. They have three bedrooms, separate living rooms and dining rooms, large kitchens and the maids' rooms. Naturally, they are also prohibitively expensive and command some of the best views of Central Park in the city.  The Kaplan apartment looks like it came directly out of an expensive real estate listing.

Bucky follows them in, carrying a case of wine in one hand and using the other to usher a reluctant Tommy into the apartment.

"Hey, hi," Billy says, accepting a hug and kiss from Aunt May and a hug from Bucky while Teddy takes the wine.

Peter shakes his hand and everyone watches Tommy.

"Hey," Tommy says.

"Hey," Billy repeats.

"Oh my God." Billy's mother comes up behind Billy, her face quickly going pale. "He really is your twin."

"Mom, that's Tommy," Billy says. "Tommy, this is my mom, Rebecca."

Tommy, for the first time since Peter met him, is completely speechless. "Uh..."

"You have a lovely apartment," Aunt May says, quickly changing the subject. "Billy, why don't you show Tommy around while your mother and I get better acquainted?"

"I took Valium earlier," Rebecca Kaplan says weakly as Billy leads Tommy further into the apartment. "I don't think I took nearly enough to deal with..." She glances over at Bucky. "I'm sorry, I'm being rude --"

"Yeah," Bucky says, "It's a lot to take in."

"You have no idea... Do I call you Bucky or Sergeant Barnes? O-or James?"

"Bucky's fine, ma'am."

"Rebecca."

"My sister's name is Rebecca," Bucky tells her politely. "And my great-niece, too."

"That's...that's --"

"Unusual," Aunt May says coming to the rescue as usual. Peter has the feeling she's going to be the savior of tonight's dinner. "Not quite as unusual as finding out your son has an identical twin, another mother, an uncle and that his grandfather is Magneto, but unusual enough."

"You have no idea," Mrs. K sighs.

Aunt May smiles warmly. "Actually, I do. Has Billy mentioned Peter's clone?"

"What?!"

"HYDRA cloned Peter." She pulls out her phone and shows Mrs. K a picture of Jessica. "She's living with Daredevil. You'd think a man who dresses up in a silly devil costume would be a horrible parent but he's actually very responsible. I hope you get to meet them both."

Mrs. K blinks at Aunt May and then her gaze ticks to Bucky and back again. "We're going to have to become very good friends, Mrs. Parker, because I'm going to need all the help I can get."

"Call me May, Rebecca." Aunt May pats Mrs. K's hand. "You might want to get to know Erik a bit better. He's had some wonderful advice about parenting a mutant child. Did you know he helped found the Xavier Institute?"

"No."

"Well, he did and he's actually a very lovely person."

Peter hangs back with Bucky as the two women head inside, chatting away about being parents of extraordinary children. "You sure you don't want to go give Billy's mom some of your sage advice about raising a big-time superhero and an obnoxious mutant jerk?"

"That obnoxious mutant jerk is your brother, Petey."

"Not really --"

"Yes, really," Bucky cuts him off. "I did a thing with Jones and Stevie last night. And her friend Trish. Made a deal with a guy from the new SHIELD. End result, Tommy is officially a member of the Parker household."

"What are you saying?" Peter asks weakly.

"I have adoption papers in Aunt May's name," Bucky tells him. "I just haven't given them to her yet. I was thinking since Mother's Day is in two weeks, it might be the perfect present."

"Adoption?"

"Yeah."

"A brother. _My_  brother."

"Uh-huh."

"I wonder if Mrs. K has any more of that Valium."

 

 

 

 


	11. Chapter 11

 

Chapter 11

 

**Why is Tonight Different from all Other Nights?  Part 1**

 

  
Valium is nice, Billy thinks. Everything feels soft around the edges and the tightness in his chest is finally gone. He probably even doesn't blush when Steve catches him staring for the gazillionth time. Probably. It's impossible _not_  to stare at Steve and it's not like Billy has the opportunity that often.

"Quit staring at Steve," Teddy whispers.

"He's so beautiful," Billy whispers back, completely forgetting about enhanced super soldier hearing until Steve, Bucky and Peter all turn to look at him and yes, _now_  he's blushing for sure. But thanks to the Valium, he doesn't feel like teleporting to the other side of the planet. Instead, he looks Steve right in those spectacularly blue eyes as he whispers to Teddy, "Like a sculpture or a Renaissance painting. H-he's _art_. Living art. And his eyelashes are dreamy."

"And _you're_  high as a kite. How much Valium did you take?" Teddy hisses.

Billy grins. "I took a whole pill instead of half. And I might have had a few sips of wine."

"Keep that up and you're going to be the first After School Avenger in rehab," Teddy scolds him.

"If I am, it's because of my family," Billy pouts. "I mean, look. Pietro won't talk to anybody except Wanda and he's only speaking Sokovian. Tommy's ignoring me. Nobody is comfortable talking to Erik except Aunt May and Steve --"

"With his dreamy eyelashes."

Billy winces at Teddy's remark and whispers, "I-it's just a crush and besides, I'm almost over it because he's such a friggin' _troll_ , Teddy! Thanks to you, now he knows about my fanfic collection." And _now_ , thanks to his own big mouth and super soldier hearing, so do Bucky and Peter.

Of course they're all staring at him.

Steve is smirking.

Bucky also smirks at Billy and winks.

Peter just buries his face in his hand and sighs.

Billy wonders how mortified he'd be right now _without_  the Valium.

His father clears his throat and raps his fork against his glass. All conversation stops. "Um, okay, so... For those of you who might be unfamiliar with the traditions of the Passover meal, we begin with the Kiddush, a prayer that acknowledges the sanctity of the day and thanks God for bringing us together. We say it as a blessing over wine, or if you're a kid, grape juice."

"May I?" Erik asks. "It's been many years since I've attended a Seder but I believe I still recall the words."

Billy's dad looks like a deer in headlights and then quickly nods. "Sure, Mag -- uh, Erik. Go ahead." He starts to offer Erik the Haggadah booklet which has phonetic English versions of the Hebrew prayers but Erik waves him away.

Instead, Erik recites the Kiddush in flawless Hebrew without any hesitation or stumbling over words unlike Billy's father. He raises his glass of wine and is saying 'amen' when the doorbell rings.

Billy's mom looks over at him. "You didn't invite any of your other friends, did you?"

"No!" Billy protests.

She keeps staring at him.

The doorbell rings again.

"Oh, I guess you want me to answer it."

Teddy snorts a laugh.

Billy gets to his feet and it feels like he's floating when he walks to the door. Since there's a roomful of super powered people behind him, he opens the door without asking who's there and finds himself face to face with the angriest looking girl he's ever seen. Behind _her_  is Wolverine from the X-Men. Despite the Valium, Billy panics. And why shouldn't he? _Magneto_  is here and the X-Men _hate_  him. "Uh... Hi?"

"You must be the nerdy twin," Angry Girl says. "Where's Tommy?"

"Huh?"

"Tommy invited me."

"Huh?"

"Are you deficient or something?"

"Um... No! What?" Billy does his best to return her glare but he's sure he's only managing to look constipated. "Who _are_  you and why are you here?"

"I'm Negasonic Teenage Warhead," Angry Girl says. "And like I told you, Tommy invited me."

Tommy appears at Billy's elbow. "She's my date."

"And _I'm_  her chaperone, bub," Wolverine growls at Tommy whose mouth drops open. He thrusts a six-pack of beer into Billy's hand. "Here."

"Uh, I d-don't think this is Kosher for Passover," Billy stammers.

"Not a problem." Wolverine takes back the six-pack back, brushes past Billy and makes his way to the dining room where he immediately glares at Erik. "So it's true. You're playing on Rogers' soft side now." He turns to Steve. "You know he's going to stab you in the back, right? Done it to Charlie more times'n we're keeping count."

Steve gets to his feet. "Not that it isn't great to see you again, Logan, but what are you doing here?"

"Magneto the Third over there invited Ellie to come as his date," Wolverine says, jerking a thumb in Tommy's direction. "I'm here to make sure she comes home in one piece and that Mags behaves himself in polite company." He looks around the room. "Charlie said there were three generations of the Magneto family now but damn --"

"Billy, get some chairs for our guests," Billy's mother instructs.

The Valium isn't helping Billy. At all. "There's not enough room!"

"Not a problem," Wanda says. She gestures to the table and it glows red before stretching another two feet. Two chairs materialize, transported in from the kitchen. Billy's father downs half a glass of wine in a single gulp.

"It's nice to meet you, Ellie," Aunt May says, extending her hand. "I'm May Parker."

"The name," Ellie says, "is Negasonic Teenage Warhead."

"Which makes me rue the day I thought mutants should select their own mutant names," Erik sighs. "Negasonic isn't even a word."

"It's a song title," Teddy pipes up, trying to be helpful. "From Monster Magnet."

NTW shoots him a thumbs up. "Someone with a clue."

Out of the corner of his eye, Billy sees his mother take another Valium and wash it down with her wine.

He's not going to be the only Kaplan in rehab after this dinner.

 

 

00000000000

 

 

**Why is Tonight Different from all Other Nights?  Part 2**

 

  
Barnes wishes he could remember why Logan hates him but he can't so he settles for getting into a staring contest with him. It's not like the rest of the dinner guests are behaving any better.

Tommy and that Warhead girl are whispering snide comments about everyone else and laughing. They're also bumping their knees together under the table.

Peter, Teddy and Billy are working on a strategy for Billy to try to have a conversation with Wanda that doesn't include scary Uncle Pietro.

Steve is trying to convince Wanda and Pietro to talk to both Tommy and Billy.

Aunt May, Mrs. K and Magneto are having a lively discussion about raising children with special abilities.

Mr. K hasn't looked up from his plate once except to refill his wine glass.

All in all, the dinner is going a lot better than Barnes ever expected. Even with Logan giving him the stink eye.

Until Aunt May says, "We should ask Bucky what he thinks. He's just as involved in raising the boys as I am."

Barnes tears his gaze from Logan. "Huh?"

The look Aunt May shoots in his direction tells Barnes that she caught the little staring match with Logan and thinks it's rude. This is her way of putting a stop to it. "Rebecca was asking about how we ensure the kids remember that their education takes priority over world-ending menaces. You've had a talk or two with Peter about that."

"I've had a lot of talks with Petey about that," Barnes says and now _everybody_  is listening in on this conversation. "Especially after I paid a little visit to the school and found out he had a history of cutting school, falling asleep in class and he mouthed off to one of his teachers." He glares at Magneto as he recalls the circumstances of that meeting. "I handled that by checking his homework every day and keeping on top of everything he's supposed to be doing."

"Bucky also walks him to and from school to make sure he doesn't cut class again," Aunt May adds.

"That's not the only reason," Barnes protests. "I want to make sure he gets where he's going in one piece. Not that it prevented Magneto over there from kidnapping him from the damn school."

"I can never apologize enough for that," Magneto says to Aunt May and Barnes grits his teeth when she pats the bastard's arm like it's no big deal. "And in Peter's defense, he did ask me to write a note for him. I assumed he was joking, of course."

"I _was_ ," Petey mumbles under his breath. "Mostly."

"Then again," Magneto says to Barnes with an amused smile, "As I recall, you yourself kidnapped Peter from his school."

"I _rescued_  him from a HYDRA retrieval squad!"

"You engaged in a firefight and threw a grenade."

"He blew up the fourth floor gym," Petey adds. "They made us have gym outside so it didn't get me out of dodgeball."

"You should come to _our_  school," that Negasonic girl says to Petey. "We _never_  have a full week of classes. There's always some nut job causing problems. Sometimes, they even blow up the school."

"First of all," Logan growls at her, "it's not _every_  week. Second, you get an advanced, tailored curriculum. And the school only got blown up twice."

Tommy smirks. "Our school got blown up _four_  times because everyone knows Spidey goes there."

"And _you_  blew up your _own_  school," Petey shoots back.

"That was an accident, Peter," Aunt May scolds, "and Tommy's suffered enough because of it."

There's a silence and then Jeff Kaplan looks over at Teddy and Billy. "Well? What about you two?"

Teddy shifts uncomfortably in his seat. "We, uh, had a bedbug infestation last year. They closed the school for two days while they fumigated."

Billy looks around the table and it's obvious he's struggling to come up with something to say. "The cafeteria served us spoiled milk again last week."

"Again?" Jeff sighs. "The school board _promised_  us --"

"Jeff." Rebecca elbows him.

"I pack lunch for Petey and Tommy. HYDRA wouldn't have forced me to eat the stuff his cafeteria serves," Barnes blurts out and then considers bludgeoning himself with his cybernetic arm for opening his damn mouth.

Magneto smirks at him. "Yes, I've witnessed your conscientious attention to their proper nutrition firsthand."

"That's because he's a proud papa Bucky Bear, looking out for his little cubbies." Deadpool materializes next to Magneto. "Whoa, look at this crowd. Good guys, bad guys, nerds and Wolverine." He cocks his head at Logan. "Is there some kind of rule that only two X-Men can leave the mansion at a time?"

"No, but there is a rule about showing up where you ain't been invited, bub," Logan snarls, rising to his feet.

Deadpool waves him off. "I'm just popping in to check on my pal Ellie over there and make sure Tommy is being the very best boyfriend he can be." He snatches a piece of matzo from Tommy's plate, raises his mask, takes a bite and then spits it out. "Wow, I haven't had anything that bad since I was locked up in jail in Vanuatu."

Tommy is staring up at him, open-mouthed.

Negasonic Ellie gets up and glares at Deadpool. "What is your childhood trauma, you freak?"

"Do you really want to know? We could be here for _days_ , Ellie," Deadpool says, snatching her chair and dropping down into it. He slings his arm around Tommy's shoulders. "I had a very unhappy childhood. It gives _other people_  nightmares."

Rebecca clears her throat. "Perhaps you'd like to make an appointment with me then --"

"You're a shrink?"

"I'm a psychologist."

"You could retire off the people at _this_  table," Deadpool tells her. "Is this your apartment? Classic seven, right?"

"Yes --"

"Love the decor. Mind if I stay for dinner?"

"Well --"

"Thanks... Oh, I'm sorry. We haven't been introduced because these X-People have no manners. I'm Wade Wilson but folks call me Deadpool and by folks, I mean the people I kill. Right before I kill them. Obviously. Because if they talked after I killed them, they'd be ghosts. Or poltergeists."

Jeff Kaplan finally recovers the power of speech. "You're a...a serial killer?"

"Bzzzzt! Wrong!" Deadpool makes a finger gun. "I'm a mercenary. Serial killers kill for crazy people reasons, like they're psychopaths or sociopaths. I kill people for money. Also because I'm really good at it and because I can't die."

"H-he's harmless," Petey says. "Most of the time."

"Harmless like a saber tooth kitten, Petey-pie."

Steve gets to his feet, expression stern. "Why, exactly, are you here, Deadpool?"

"I told you. Ellie did me a solid and I decided to set her up with my bestie, Petey over there."

"And I told _you_ ," Ellie snaps, "I don't date dorks."

"Hey!" Peter protests.

"She's going out with me," Tommy says proudly.

"So," Barnes says to Wanda, "Aren't you glad you decided to have kids?"

 

 

 

 


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

 

**The Main Course**

 

"What the shit?!" Deadpool leans back in his chair, folds his arms across his chest and manages to glare at Peter despite his mask. It's a pretty impressive feat and Peter wishes he knew how to do it too. "That's the most fucked up family tree I've ever heard of and believe me, I've been around." He points with his fork at Bucky. "He's your dad."

"Uh, yeah --"

"And so is he." Deadpool points at Steve.

"Ye--"

"And _Magneto_  is your _grandpa_."

"Well --"

Deadpool points at Aunt May. "And what's her deal? Is she secretly the Black Widow or something?"

"N-no," Peter stammers as he wonders how much Valium it would take to help _him_  get through this suddenly out-of-control dinner. "She's really my aunt."

"When exactly did all this happen?" Deadpool demands. "Last time we met, you had exactly zero daddies and zero grandpas." He turns to Aunt May. "We didn't meet but I dropped by your house when Petey's bulimia got the better of him."

Aunt May's mouth drops open. "Peter doesn't have bulimia."

Deadpool snorts. "The first time I met him, he upchucked a taco all over me."

"That's because you tore the skin off your own legs and lost a couple of toes to get out of my webbing!" Peter protests. He realizes belatedly that the Kaplans never heard this story. In fact, nobody besides Steve and Bucky knows the details and now _everyone_  looks like they're going to be sick.

"You puke more than any superhero I've ever met," Deadpool argues. "And you're too skinny. Daddy WinterBucks is falling down on the job if he's not taking you to get help."

Bucky growls and, to Peter's horror, starts piling more brisket on Peter's plate. "Eat that, dammit."

"I can't believe you didn't even consider me when you were auditioning daddies," Deadpool goes on. He's looking directly at Bucky as he dumps an incredibly large pile of potato kugel on Peter's plate. "I have no idea what the fuck that is, but eat it."

"I-it's kugel," Mr. K says.

Deadpool turns to him. "It's edible, right? I'm not feeding the kid a centerpiece or something."

"N-no. I-it's food."

Bucky, not to be outdone, loads Peter up with more tzimmes. The stew, made with prunes and carrots, isn't exactly Peter's favorite dish and it must show on his face because Bucky's eyes narrow. "It's good for you. Eat it."

There are other dishes on the table and Peter looks around desperately, trying to figure out some way of changing the subject before he ends up having to eat every molecule of food that the Kaplans bought. He blurts out the first thing that comes to mind. "Teddy doesn't have a dad."

Teddy chokes on a bite of brisket and Billy pounds his back.

"Which one of them is Teddy?" Deadpool asks. "They all sort of look alike."

"The blond one," Peter says helpfully. "His real dad died before he was born and he doesn't have an Avenger of his own yet."

"Yes, I do!" Teddy says quickly. "I have...uh... Falcon."

Steve and Magneto exchange smirks and Peter is sure he doesn't want to know what _that_  private joke is about.

Deadpool heaves a sigh. "We could've been Team Red, Petey-boy. I could've taken you to exotic places. Ever been to the TGI Friday's in Jacksonville?"

"Uh, no --"

"It's wonderful." Deadpool sighs again and toys with his fork.

Peter thinks fast because the last thing the Kaplans need is to have to pull silverware from their walls. "We're still besties, right?"

"Besties? _Besties_. That's not even third prize, Spidey-boy. That's the lame field day certificate they give the slowest kid in the class for putting on their sneakers. Tell me, would you call Winnie your bestie?"

"No --"

"That's right. You call him 'daddy'."

"I do _not_ ," Peter says indignantly. "I'm fifteen, not five."

Deadpool cocks his head to the side. "Then what do you call him?"

"Bucky."

"The man puts food on your plate and slaughters your enemies by the hundreds and you call him _Bucky_?" Deadpool gasps in disbelief. And what's worse is that everyone at the table seems to be _agreeing_  with him. Even Aunt May, although maybe she's just freaking over the thought of Bucky slaying Peter's enemies.

Peter huffs indignantly. "First of all, he hasn't killed _hundreds_  --"

"Really? How did you not notice the body count in the HYDRA lab? Or the AIM bunker?" Deadpool retorts. "Oh wait, I know. You were puking your guts out and you were doped to the gills on sedatives, thanks to those AIM guys. You were also butt-naked and Winnie made sure he put some clothes on you so the entire world didn't see what a cute tush you have. And how do you thank him? How? Do you give him the respect he deserves? Do you say 'I love you, daddy'? Do you?"

"I-I...oy..." Peter buries his face in his hand.

"And do I get an 'I love you, Uncle Deadpool' for wiping out all those HYDRA clowns and taking down Batroc the Leaper?"

Peter groans.

"My guts weren't figuratively hanging out to save you, baby boy. They actually honest-to-God _were_  hanging out." Deadpool slams his fist on the table. "I want to hear it. I deserve to hear it. And so does Winnie."

Peter peeks out from between his fingers. Everyone is staring at _him_. Like Deadpool is making _sense_  somehow and Peter's been a complete jerk. He opens his mouth --

And for once, luck is with him.

The doorbell rings.

Saved by the friggin' bell.

 

 

0000000000000000000000

 

 

**The Detective Always Rings Twice**

 

 

Nobody answers but I could hear someone yelling on the other side of the door so I ring the bell a second time. All sound on the other side of the door stops. Nothing like an uninvited guest or two dropping in to bring the festivities to a grinding halt.

A few seconds later, Billy Kaplan is staring up at me and the kid is obviously doped out of his mind. "W-what are you doing here?"

"Happy Passover." I brush past the loopy teen and stop dead when I see the scene in the dining room.

Trish nearly crashes into me. "Is that _Wolverine_?"

"I think so," I say. "I have no idea who the guy in red is."

"I'm Deadpool and I'll gladly be _your_  superhero daddy," the guy in red says to me cheerfully.

I flip him off while Barnes growls like an angry tiger about to maul a helpless zookeeper.

"Uh..." Billy stammers, staggering past me. "Th-those are my parents, Jeff and Rebecca. Over there is, uh, Deadpool. That's Wolverine. And the girl next to Tommy is Negasonic Teenage Warhead. Everyone, this is Jessica Jones and...uh, are you Patsy Walker?"

"Of course that's Patsy Walker," Teddy says. "She's a gay icon. Do you know how many cross-dressers dress up like Patsy?"

"I don't," I tell him. "But I'd love to find out."

Trish elbows me. Hard. Then she plasters a smile on her face and hands the bottle of wine she brought to Mrs. Kaplan. "Call me Trish and thank you for having us."

Mrs. K takes it and judging by how unfocused her eyes are, she probably thinks -- or is desperately hoping -- we're hallucinations. I hand her one of the two bottles of bourbon that I brought.

"That's not Kosher for Passover --" her husband begins.

Mrs. K doesn't seem to give a shit because she fills her water glass halfway with bourbon and takes a good healthy gulp.

"Not that I'm not happy to see you," Barnes says getting out of his chair and offering it to me. Stevie does the same for Trish. "But what are you doing here?"

"Your memory really is like fucking Swiss cheese, Barnes. I lost the bet, remember?"

He blinks at me.

"I bet you that the ATCU had nothing to do with fucking HYDRA," I say and of course he doesn't remember because there wasn't any bet. "I should have known every fucking thing you touch involves HYDRA at some point."

Barnes visibly winces, his gaze focused sharply on Magneto, whose jaw clenches. "I didn't tell Aunt May about the...you know."

"Oh shit." Now it's my turn to wince. Stevie is also wincing. And so is Trish.

"What didn't you tell me, Bucky?" the lady known as Aunt May demands. "I've been learning a great deal of things you've never told me tonight."

"Shit," I repeat.

"Shit," Barnes mutters in agreement. He attempts a smile. "It was supposed to be a surprise. Uh, for Mother's Day."

I don't know Parker's aunt very well but the lady mothers the hell out of the Avengers and the ASAs and Barnes seems especially eager to please her. That's enough to tell me that fucking with her is a very bad idea. Her eyes narrow at him. "I think you'd better tell me now, Bucky."

"This really isn't the place," Barnes attempts. "We should discuss it in private."

"Considering Tommy is my grandson..." Magneto rumbles.

"And he is my _son_ ," Wanda adds, eyes flashing an eerie shade of red.

Barnes shoots me a dirty look, blows out a sigh and runs a hand through his hair. "He's Aunt May's son now."

"What?" Magneto says.

"What?" Wanda echoes.

"What the actual fuck!?" Tommy demands.

Aunt May can't even manage to form words but even if she did, I'm pretty sure she'd never use the word 'fuck'.

Barnes looks like he might be on the verge of a panic attack so I decide to try to undo some of the damage. "Barnes made a deal with SHIELD to leave the ATCU alone in exchange for Aunt May being given custody of Tommy. And if any of you know anything about Barnes, that's a huge fucking deal for him. He'd burn HYDRA down to the fucking ground for hurting the kid."

"I made no such deal," Magneto says quietly.

"Neither did I," the Deadpool guy agrees.

Tommy's gaze ticks from Barnes to Aunt May and over to Deadpool. "I fuckin' love you, Uncle Deadpool. Let's take those motherfuckers down."

"This," Deadpool whoops, " _this_  is my kid. Sorry, Petey, You're gonna have to settle for being my bestie. Tommy-boy, you are A-OK in my book." He turns to the Negasonic girl. "Do you know how lucky you are? Do you? This kid is _too_  good for you, Ellie."

Barnes takes the bottle of bourbon from my hand and helps himself to a healthy-sized drink. "Nice going, Lucy Loose Lips."

"How the fuck was I supposed to know a fucking holiday meal with you was going to turn into a total shit show?" I shoot back. "Wait. Never mind. Of course it was going to turn into a shit show. You're involved. The only thing missing is fucking HYDRA."

"Oh, I'd say they've involved," Magneto puts in.

"I told you showing up uninvited was a bad idea," Trish hisses at me.

I flip her off.

Then, for good measure, I flip everyone off.

Barnes is right. This is fucking HYDRA's fault.

 

 

0000000000000000

 

**Epilogue -- Next Year In Jerusalem**

 

  
"I've never seen my mother get that drunk before," Billy whispers to Teddy. They're in the kitchen, taking the last of the dishes out of the dishwasher and putting them away. "Do you think she was serious when she invited everyone to the Hamptons house for Memorial Day?"

"I don't think she's going to remember that," Teddy tells him gently. "The only thing I think she's going to remember is why mixing Valium, cheap bourbon and Kosher wine is a really bad idea."

"I think my dad's in shock."

"Your dad is definitely in shock. Deadpool's offer to let him demonstrate open heart surgery for everyone pretty much freaked him out."

"It's the first time he didn't explain the difference between being a cardiologist and being a heart surgeon." Billy puts the stack of plates back into the cupboard and sighs. "Peter knows some really weird people."

"Peter is your half-brother, kind of."

"For real." Billy wrinkles his nose. "Tommy has a girlfriend."

"What do you suppose her power is?" Teddy asks.

"Whatever it is, I don't think she's scarier than Jessica Jones."

"That's for sure."

Billy considers mentioning that the scariest person of all is Steve, who hugged and kissed him goodnight -- on the cheek, thank God -- and then promised to send over some links so Billy could see the Tijuana Bibles about Captain America first hand. By then, the Valium Billy took had all but worn off and he ended up setting Steve's jacket on fire with a burst of electromagnetic energy.

He's never seen Bucky laugh that hard before.

No, Billy decides, he's going to keep that memory for himself.

And he's finally going to take down his Captain America posters.

But he's not going to erase the fan fiction.

 

 

  
The end... For now.

 

 

 


End file.
